Oblivion
by the-writer1988
Summary: The Doctor and Martha find themselves caught up in an old age battle. While the Doctor faces his greatest fears and deepest regrets, Martha finds herself alone on an alien planet amongst a warhungrey tribe. But is everything as it seems? 10Martha
1. One: To Paradise!

**Title: **Oblivion

**Author: **magic-doctor-writer

**Rating: **T

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Doctor Who

**Characters: **Tenth Doctor, Martha Jones

**Summary: **The Doctor and Martha find themselves caught up in an old age battle, but when The Doctor is considered to be spoken of in ancient 'prophecy' of Maralus, Martha finds herself alone and lost on an alien planet, while the Doctor faces his greatest fears and deepest regrets. Can Martha figure out what the Prophecy really means and will she save the people of Maralus from an ancient evil?

* * *

**Meaning of **_Oblivion_: 

- the state of being unaware of what is happening around one

- the state of being forgotten

- destruction or extinction

* * *

**Oblivion**

**One**

"Morning," Martha Jones said as she walked into the kitchen, finding the Doctor sitting at the table reading. "Is it good?"

"Oh yes, it is," the Doctor responded, as his intense brown eyes consumed another page of text and he used his nimble fingers to flip the page over. His brown hair stuck up in all directions and Martha suppressed a giggle – he looked quite cute like that.

She stood on tip-toe to reach the cupboards and pulled out a plate, filled it with Shreddies, poured milk over the top, rummaged around in the draws for a spoon, found one and then sat herself down in front of the Doctor, staring at him intently.

He was leaning back in his chair, his legs crossed over one another, his brown eyes still giving the book an intense gaze however she could see the intelligence resting within. He flipped another page, and then another. She had seen him speed-read before – just by flicking through a book he could pick up intricate details – however he seemed to be draining this book far more slowly.

He finally noticed her gaze and looked up, his face showing surprise: "What?"

"You," she pointed the spoon at him.

"Yes…" he trailed off, apparently confused.

"I've never seen you read so slowly before," she answered. "You've usually sat down and finished a book within five minutes – or to put it bluntly – thirty seconds. Why is it so different now?"

The Doctor shrugged. "I can enjoy a book without reading fast. But now," he stood up, laying the book down on the table, putting his glasses back in his pockets, "you've distracted me so we'd better think about where we're going to go next!" He already had that look in his eye that showed he was ready for the next big adventure. He began to run out of the kitchen, but Martha called after him.

"Hang on! I haven't even finished my breakfast yet!" She looked down at the soggy Shreddies, shoved a few more spoonfuls into her mouth and then ran from the kitchen, through the corridors of the TARDIS till she stopped outside the Control Room. Taking a deep breath she stepped inside, determined not to allure the Doctor to the fact that she felt a little puffed out.

The Doctor was already jumping round the console, his fingers moving quickly over the controls – his fingers jabbing buttons and flicking switches – he glanced up at Martha and gave her a wide smile that showed his enthusiasm for his adventurous life.

"So Martha Jones!" the Doctor bounded across the console room and stopped right in front of her, crossing his arms. "Where would you like to go?"

"Somewhere nice?" she replied, grinning. "Peaceful. Where we don't have to run for our lives?"

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "We haven't run for our lives in ages!"

Martha sniggered. "For a Time Lord you don't have a very good memory."

"Oi! I resent that! And, for the record, I do have a very good memory," the Doctor replied, pointing a finger at her.

Martha raised her eyebrows. "Yesterday on Narvidia," she replied, "we were running for our lives because you had the gall to annoy the Prince of Carvika and he wanted your head? Remember?"

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Feels like a month ago to me."

"And you call yourself a Lord of Time!" laughed Martha.

"I'm not 'a' Lord of Time, I'm _**the**_ Lord of Time. It's singular rather then plural Miss Jones," the Doctor responded.

Martha leaned towards the Doctor, jabbing him in the chest with her middle finger and asked, "So where are you taking me then?"

"To a planet where it is a paradise all on its own without the aid of human intervention, even though humans do reside there. Maralus, is the name and I've been there before, a couple of life-times ago, one of the last places I went to before the Time War ended…it was a planet that was unaffected by the war – but I had to see it…just to see what it was like to be at peace again," the Doctor smiled, a dream-look in his intense brown eyes. "You'll like it Martha, very much."

"Has it got beaches then? What about a lovely blue sea?"

The Doctor shook his head. "It's not that type of paradise," he winked at her. "You'll see when we get there."

She could see he meant it this time; meant to take her to a place where they wouldn't have to run or hide, or have to save a civilisation from destruction either…just a peaceful place to relax and enjoy oneself.

"You'd better put on the proper attire," he commented as he continued to pull levers.

"Such as…?" she inquired.

"Flared trousers….a short skirt…a t-shirt…you know, girl's stuff," he was blushing, talking about something he didn't have any knowledge of.

Martha shrugged her shoulders, shaking her head. Leaving the Doctor alone to play with his toy she ascended the stairs to where the wardrobe room was located.

In the end Martha chose to wear jeans that were cropped at the knee with a light purple top which had no sleeves. One small change she did make (other then her clothing) was to let her hair down - she figured it was time to make herself feel at home within the TARDIS. Besides, having her hair down helped her relax, especially when she knew that the Doctor planned to take her to a nice planet where running wouldn't be a necessity.

"I'm ready," she informed the Doctor as she arrived back in the control room.

The Doctor took one glance at her, eyebrows raised. "Sure?"

"Yeah," she nodded enthusiastically.

He indicated the door with his right hand, "It's all yours," but his impatient side got the better of him as he bounded across the room before Martha had taken two steps.

"Someone's eager," chuckled Martha, holding a hand to her face to suppress her giggles.

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "If you don't show enthusiasm…"

"I was," she pointed out, "but you thought I was moving to slow for you."

He shifted on his feet looking quite guilty however he perked up with his reply. "You'll see why I'm so happy to be here again. Maralus is a marvellous, beautiful planet with unique traditions…a simple way of life….,"his eyes were sparkling as he spoke the final words, "…and the home of another type of human!"

"You mean to say there are different humans in the universe?" Martha coaxed her head.

The Doctor's head went from side to side as he considered his next words. "Well, you Earth lot are type one – the fundamental human shape and lifespan – the Maralus humans evolved after you, but with two basic differences!"

"And what are they?" prompted Martha.

The Doctor twirled on his feet – he was struggling to keep in his pent-up-energy. "They can live longer – by about fifty years – and they also have three fingers and one thumb, so slight difference, but they are basically type two human."

"Impressive….so if they can live longer then me that would make their general lifespan to be about one-hundred and twenty five years old, give or take a few years?"

"Precisely Dr. Jones!" he grinned, twirled again and headed to the door. "Come on then!"

With that he bounded out of the TARDIS and into the unknown with Martha Jones following him.

* * *

Deep in the mountains that sat upon the borders of the countries of Marid and Myrad, Sister Aziel strolled through the darkness of the passages that her forefathers had carved. Upon the walls were carvings of ancient history – the beginning of the long war that had plagued her planet. This was the true story of how war had evolved, but none of the natives, save for her and her brother, Arrein, knew the truth behind the outbreak of war. 

It was part of her destiny to ensure that war continued.

"Brother Arrein," Sister Aziel called into the darkness of the cave.

A flicker of orange light appeared from around a corner held by a man with long black hair and startling purple eyes. His three-fingered hand held onto the torch that burned the cave with light.

"Sister," his voice was soft. "What is it?"

"Word from the Shaman: _they are coming._"

"Ah," Arrein nodded. "How will we know who 'they' are?"

"We will know – brave deeds are always rewarded with injury," smiled Aziel. "We will defeat the prophecy by taking the one who '_conquers all'_ – nothing will stop us."

**To be continued…**

**Please let me know what you think! **

**Good? Bad? Interesting? **

**magic-doctor-writer**


	2. Two: Strangers

**Thank you for the reviews…I hope you like this chapter!**

**

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****Two**

"Wow," marvelled Martha as she stepped out of the TARDIS and into a forest. "You were right, this **_is _**paradise!"

The Doctor shot her a smile. "You've just stepped out of the TARDIS and have only glimpsed a fraction of this planet's beauty and you're already saying that this paradise of a forest is enough for you?" he grinned, wondering if Martha was that easily impressed. "This is not the best bit of this planet…not by a long shot!"

"There's something more beautiful on this planet then this forest?"

"This planet is full of beauties –you'll be begging to stay here when I say 'let's go'!" said the Doctor, grinning from ear to ear.

Martha's eyebrows rose in mock defiance. "And what do I get in return if you are wrong and I am not begging to stay?"

The Doctor ran a hand through his hair, considering his options. "Erm…what would the lovely and beautiful Miss Jones want from a Time Lord such as myself?"

"Hmmm," Martha feigned thinking. "How about a kiss?"

His eyes widened in utter astonishment. "Seriously? That's the price you want from me?"

Martha laughed, doubling up. "No – I'm joking!" - Though she really wasn't – "how about taking me to a real haunted house and not those fake ones in Disneyland?"

"Oh, Martha Jones, I love haunted houses!" The Doctor jumped up and down, his excitement at the prospect of visiting a haunted house if he lose the bet was obvious. "You've got yourself a deal!"

They shook hands.

* * *

Chief Kaza of the Northern Tribe sat cross-legged at the side of the Shaman's cave which was located in the mountain that boarded the countries of Marid and Myrad. There was a little path that led from the northern side of the mountain to the Shaman's cave, allowing Kaza and any people of his tribe to talk to the Shaman. 

Lately, Kaza had been talking more to the Shaman. There were rumours in the south from scouts concerning the children of a prophecy, and Kaza knew that if his enemies learnt of whom this prophecy spoke of they would face a fate worse then death. By spending most of his time with the Shaman Kaza hoped to identify these children, however his constant presence in the Shaman's home hadn't been very productive.

He sat back, smoking with the wooden pipe that was in his mouth, waiting for the Shaman to speak.

* * *

"What is this called?" 

Martha crouched down, pointing at a tiny flower that was growing in the middle of the pathway that she and the Doctor had discovered from their walk in the forest. The flower's petals were pointed and spiky and it seemed to emit an aura of gold.

"I wouldn't recommend eating it," the Doctor said, crouching down next to her.

Martha raised her eyebrows. "Poisonous?"

"Oh yeah," he confirmed, nodding his head, "only if you eat it though. I believe it is called the Ofhorn - not entirely sure on that one - but it is used in healing practices, supposedly."

Martha stood up, placing her hands on her waist. "Ofhorn is only poisonous if you digest it, but it is used in healing practices? Wouldn't you be digesting it then?"

He nodded. "You can take out the poison you know."

"Then that explains it," added Martha.

"It certainly does," he stood up and strode up the path. It was gradually leading upward and Martha could see through the gaps in the forest trees, a mountain emerging.

"That mountain borders two countries: Marad and Myrad. There are passages through the mountains that allow the two tribes on either side to trade food or water when needed."

"Good working relations then?"

He took hold of her hand, running forwards.

"Hey!" shouted Martha. "You haven't answered my question!"

"I can show you!" he responded. "Let's go meet the natives!"

* * *

It was nearing prayer time. Chief Kaza had not received any word from the Shaman about the children of the prophecy. He would have to come back tomorrow and hope for some news. 

The gods would shine on him, wouldn't they?

As he descended from the mountain Kaza could see two lonely shapes. They had just emerged from the forest.

_Oh Cubhe…_Kaza reflected sadly. The forest had once spread far and wide. Now it was reduced to only ten miles either side of the mountain. To his right was just barren wasteland. The forest had burned down during the war that had started so many years before he was born.

His tribe was just over a mile away. Even from this distance he could see the tall spires of smoke coming from the huts chimneys.

_You've got two strangers to investigate first before you even consider heading home. _

Kaza had to wonder why he never bought body-guards on his trips. He was an able fighter since he had a lot of experience however the sight of strangely clad people scared him. They were unknowns to him and he had to wonder if this was a trick of the southerners. His enemies would certainly befuddle him with strangers just to assassinate him.

His instincts told him they meant no harm…but should he trust them?

Shaking his head he began to approach the two strangers wearily, wondering if he was making the right decision.

* * *

"This certainly isn't the paradise I expected," the Doctor muttered. They stood at the base of the mountain having emerged from the forest. "What has happened here….everything is dead." 

Martha strode ahead, her brown eyes taking in her surroundings. "Not as you remember it?"

"No…"

Martha turned back to the Doctor to see his face stricken and confused.

"What should be here instead of barren wasteland?" she asked.

"A forest should cover most of this land but it is all gone…why? What has happened since I was last here? Two thousand years can't have changed much…not by my reckoning at least."

"Perhaps you'll get answers in a minute," suggested Martha, nodding behind her to the path that led up into the mountains. "Someone is coming this way."

**To be continued… **

**Please let me know what you think! I will update again soon. **

**magic-doctor-writer**


	3. Three: Something About That Man

**Thank you for the reviews so far! **

**Had a busy week so I have hardly had much time to write so I'm afraid this is quite short – next one will be longer! **

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**Three**

"Hello there!" The Doctor called, waving his right arm up in the air to get the attention of the man walking their way. "He seems wary of us…"

Martha shook her head. "Course he would be, silly. We're strangers on a planet that he calls his home and if they are quite primitive as you have led me to believe, I don't think they get many strangers that are dressed as well as we are."

"Ah," The Doctor seemed to take the hint. "I suppose shouting out wasn't the best move, was it?"

Martha pursed her lips. "No, it wasn't. But if it makes you feel any better he is still walking this way – though he is holding something…"

"A knife," he replied firmly. He ran a hand through his hair. "I don't think he is of any threat to us. He may be just protecting himself from us since we are, essentially, strangers."

"And invading his home," added Martha. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to raise my hands," said The Doctor.

She looked at him in some concern but then thought better to question him. She figured that showing that they were unarmed would hopefully help the person talk to them without feeling endangered by their presence. "I hope you know what you are doing," she couldn't resist adding.

"Of course I know what I'm doing," whispered The Doctor, his brown eyes focused entirely upon the man walking steadily closer.

The man stopped metres from them, his face completely unreadable, however he spoke to them, his voice commanding strength.

"Who are you?"

"I'm the Doctor and this is Martha Jones. And you are?"

The man eyed them – Martha could see curiosity embedded in his eyes and she realised that he was wondering what threat they posed. She stepped forward slowly, keeping her gaze on the man and then she smiled gently.

"We won't hurt you, I promise," she said, slowly lowering her hands.

"What do you want?" asked the man.

"To help," added The Doctor. "I think something is going on here."

Martha looked back at him startled. He had not told her of his suspicions, but it seemed reasonable enough.

"You will walk in front of me, hands on your heads," instructed the man. "I will take you to my village. We will see if you mean any harm there."

"Okay," agreed The Doctor.

"You will go first," the man pointed at the Doctor, "and you will go behind."

Martha nodded and placed her hands on top of her head. She looked at the Doctor wearily but all she got was encouraging smile. He moved off in front of her, not seemingly bothered by their circumstances. Still, if they were a threat to this man, he could have just attacked them and it seemed he was taking a big risk in allowing them to live.

* * *

Kaza was quite certain that the two strangers meant no harm to him which was one of the reasons he was taking them to his village. They seemed nice enough but one could never be too careful. His village was surrounded by sentries so he knew when he reached the sentries they could handle the strangers. 

It was quite eerie that they were co-operating without a fuss. Kaza peered over the woman's shoulder at the man. He seemed to be taking in his surroundings and there was something about him that made Kaza wondered if he had been here before. He didn't know why but he felt that this man had been familiar with this planet years ago.

"Have you been here before?"

"Who, me?" the one called the Doctor answered.

"Yes."

"I have, yes."

"When did you come here?"

"Ohhh, long before you were born," the stranger replied. "Do you mind if I ask what has happened since I was last here? From what I recall this planet was peaceful and like a paradise…and now it is all gone replaced by death and destruction."

Kaza sighed. "It is a story that I would prefer to tell in the safety of my village. You will not have to wait much longer. Your questions will be answered, I can promise you that."

"And what will happen to us?" asked the dark-skinned girl.

"It depends on what merits you bring to us, and whether we judge you to be friend or enemy."

**To be continued…**

**Please let me know what you think! **

**Next chapter will be coming soon. **

**magic-doctor-writer**


	4. Four: Trust

**Sorry for the long wait! I know this is short but I've been trying to finish chapter 5 before posting this, however it looks like it is going to be a long one so I thought that I would post chapter 4 now. **

**This story is also published on the Life ****on Martha LJ community****, and chapter four has been available on there for a while now. will always be behind Life on Martha with this story as I am using this site as links to the previous chapters, so any new readers from that community can easily catch up. If you wish to read chapter 5, I am aiming to have that done by Sunday, so look on the Life on Martha LJ community, if you would like to read the next chapter which would be quicker then waiting for me to update on here as I wouldn't add chapter 5 until chapter 6 has been posted on Life on Martha.**

**Thanks for the reviews and support so far! **

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**Four**

It was not that long till they reached, what Martha assumed were the sentries. From behind them she could see the spires of smoke lolling out of the tops of erected tents or huts that seemed to be made of wood. She was quite surprised when the sentries bowed before their captor and proclaimed him 'their lord'. The Doctor glanced back at her and winked.

He knew! He had known all along whom their captor was! She frowned at him and mouthed: "How did you know?"

He just smiled and turned back to the guards that were now searching his pockets and padding down his arms and legs searching for hidden weapons. They found his sonic screwdriver and confiscated that from him, as well as his Physic paper. For some reason Martha wasn't searched, though she had a feeling that this society didn't consider females a threat.

The man that had effectively directed them to his home turned towards them. "For reasons which I will not elaborate here, both of you must be blindfolded."

"That's fine by us, isn't that right Martha?" said The Doctor, rocking back and forth on his heels.

"Yeah, sure," she shrugged. _It's not like I have any choice, Doctor. _

A piece of fabric was placed over her eyes, closing the world from her. She felt one of her hands being manoeuvred so that it was placed upon the Doctor's shoulder.

"You will be guided by your man who is being led by others," a gruff voice said.

"He is not my man," responded Martha. She almost tripped when she didn't move quickly enough.

"You are not joined then?"

She recognised the voice of the man who had led them there, who she now knew as the leader of his people.

"Joined? What does that mean?"

The Doctor answered her question. "It means that we have not participated in the ceremony traditionally known on this planet as mating. It can also be described as joining in holy matrimony."

"Marriage then?" clarified Martha.

He nodded.

"You always have to make it sound complicated," she laughed.

"That is what I do," agreed The Doctor. "Not that I do that on purpose – it is just a habit I happen to keep doing. Can't help it – sorry!"

She shook her head but almost stumbled as she lost concentration. Strong arms grabbed her ensuring that she did not fall unnecessarily to the ground.

"Thanks," she said.

"You should be more careful," a softer voice said. "When you talk with limited eyesight it heightens your chances of stumbling."

"I blame the Doctor," replied Martha but she found that she was smiling as she spoke. "He can be _so _distracting sometimes. He tends to start talking about something and then tends to go off track onto a completely unrelated topic. And don't bother trying to deny it Doctor - you know it to be true!"

"I wasn't going to," he replied.

Martha continued to hold the Doctor's shoulder as they were both led through the camp. She could hear the sounds of muttering come from all sides and she guessed that they were now in the midst of their captor's home. Not being able to see them unnerved her, as she felt they could do almost anything to her at any given time without prior warning. She swallowed, breathing calmly.

"We're almost there," the same soft voice said.

Within minutes she was told to sit down and felt herself being guided down onto a hard, wooden chair. The piece of cloth was removed from her eyes and she blinked rapidly trying to adjust her eyesight to the dimness of the hut she and the Doctor had been led to.

There was a small fire burning in the centre of the hut; the smoke spiralling upwards and out of a hole in the top. The smokes fumes made her feel tired and she stifled a yawn as drowsiness overcame her.

"You alright?" asked the Doctor, looking at her in some concern.

"Yeah," she shook her head. "I'm fine."

The Doctor turned his attention back to the man they had originally made contact with. He was sitting in a wooden chair on the other side of the hut, scrutinising them.

"I hope I am correct in assuming that you are of no threat to me or my people," he said, "for I have made that mistake before, and that cost me dearly."

The Doctor nodded gravely, insisting: "We are no threat to you."

_Unless they are trying to take over the world, _thought Martha. _He seems alright anyway. _

"Perhaps it would be prudent to introduce myself to you," the man said, leaning back in his chair. "I am Kaza, Chief of the Northern Tribe. You told me earlier that you are the Doctor and Martha Jones?"

"That is correct," replied the Doctor.

"Doctor of what?"

"All sorts of things," shrugged the Doctor.

"No specific area that you dab in?"

"No, not really."

"Then how come you are a Doctor if you have no area of which you wish to study and learn more about?"

The Doctor shrugged, pulling at his earlobe. He was feeling quite nervous. "I go to places where people need my help and I try my best to help them in the way that benefits them the most, and I think," he gave Kaza a pointed look, "that you need help. Something is very wrong with this planet and I intend to find out what, but I need to know why things have changed since I was last here."

Kaza ran a hand through his silky, black hair, wondering – just briefly – if he could truly trust this strange man, with his four fingers and thumb? There was only a slight hesitation before he answered his unspoken question.

_Yes, I can._

The Chief of the Northern Tribe leaned forward, locking eyes with the Doctor and began to speak. Bit by bit, the long-sad history of his people came to be known to the two strangers he had unwittingly befriended and trusted.

**To be continued…**

**Please let me know what you think!**

**Next chapter is coming soon. **

**magic-doctor-writer**


	5. Five: Prophecy

**A very long chapter here! And ends with a sort of cliffy, which was not my intention. **

**Enjoy!**

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**Five**

Martha had learnt long ago to leave the Doctor alone when he was thinking, especially when he was contemplating what to do next. They had been given a hut to share which was situated right next to Kaza's one, allowing the Doctor to pass to and fro from both huts. She had never seen him so edgy, so anxious to find out what had happened to this planet's people.

Kaza had explained to them that records from the peaceful days rarely existed and the harmony that had once bound the society together had been severed by the feelings of anger and hate that had replaced the feelings of love and beauty. For nearly three thousand years darkness had reined across the land, keeping them a slave to their emotions – those were the words the chief had used to describe how he felt about the war.

She had heard how an ancestor of Kaza had been taken as a mere boy of sixteen. The boy, the heir to the Northerners village, had been returned to them filled with hate for the Southerners. The war had begun when the Chief, the boy's father, had proclaimed war upon the Southerners, Easterners and Westerners for inflicting the horrible damage done to his heir.

The Westerners, Easterners and Southerners had banded together to fight back, but the Northerners were so filled with hate and anger that gradually the three tribes that had combined together were slowly shattered. The effects of that war had caused a rift between people that had once loved each other.

As the years passed each prince or princess was taken at the age of sixteen, and returned home with tales of horror, of torture and of pain. They spoke of the hate that had gathered and how revenge must be taken against their enemies – the Southerners who had been responsible for what had happened to them. Just over two thousand years ago, five children were taken, each held a strategic place within the camp of the Northerners, and, as before, when they returned they spoke of the same dark place and prison every heir to the Village had been taken to. Their passion for war influenced others and soon every child from the day they were able to lift a sword was trained in the noble art of combat to defeat their enemies.

As the years went by, children rarely disappeared as the feelings they had against the other tribe was taught to them by their parents. They were meant to hate the Southerners and they wouldn't stop fighting them until each one was dead.

Kaza had explained that he had been taught to hate but after his father's death at the hands of illness he had felt something different rise within him.

A feeling that he had never felt before: Forgiveness.

The gods he worshipped were meant to protect his father from illness – but they had failed to keep that promise, but he could forgive them for that, and it had helped him look at the war with a different point of view. Kaza could forgive the Southerners for the transgressions of the past but when he spoke to other members of his council or to the people of his tribe they did not share the same view as him. To them, the Southerners, and anyone that consorted with them deserved the ultimate penalty of death.

Whatever was preventing the people from forgiving the Southerners, Kaza wasn't being affected. It was if an influence had been banished from his mind. And Martha had to wonder if these people were being controlled by something far darker and mysterious.

* * *

"I think I know what is going on here," he said as he strolled into the hut and straight up to where Martha was sitting. He didn't even give her a chance to speak before he blundered on attempting to explain the logic that had hit him in the minutes he had been gone from the hut they had been given after Kaza had told them his people's history. "You're probably going to laugh at me but it all makes sense to me."

"What's that?" asked Martha, standing up and folding her arms.

The Doctor brushed a weary hand through his hair. "I'm pretty sure these people are being controlled by something. What concerns me most is that they feel no emotion other then anger and hate – it's like they've lost the ability to love."

"People are incapable of love you know," responded Martha, giving him a pointed look. "People who don't give an ounce of care to others feelings when they harm someone they love. When someone is murdered, some feel they have the right to do what they did, but some do not show any emotion at all because they do not care."

"Yeah, I know, but not these people. They are fundamentally human. Something is taking their ability to love from them – something dark. I can sense something dark around this village. It surrounds everyone, but Kaza seems to feel lighter then most as if he is fighting unconsciously back at it."

"I thought that too – I was going to mention it to you but you rushed off as soon as we were brought to this hut. I didn't have a chance to tell you of my suspicions – I'm just glad that you noticed the same thing as me."

The Doctor's eyebrows rose. "That is very perceptive of you. You don't sense anything at all?"

She shook her head wondering what the Doctor meant. "No…"

"Hmm," he scratched the back of his neck, "whatever this darkness thing is it knows I'm a threat to it. If I can sense it, it can sense me."

"You think its going to try to kill you?"

He shrugged. "Put me out of commission more likely or try to affect me."

"Ah," said Martha. "What do we do now?"

"The Shaman," the Doctor said, strolling round the hut, "he is the neutral party in this. Kaza told me that he predicts the future –"

Martha shook her head. "No he didn't."

"He did – well, he just told me. You were in here waiting for me. I had an epiphany. I've been here before the outbreak of this war and I remember the Shaman being the neutral person and he still is! He has the ability to see into the future or – to put it more accurately – predict the future in terms of prophecies. Not all of them come true, but he is usually correct in what he predicts."

"Why am I getting a bad feeling about this?" asked Martha, raising her eyebrow.

The Doctor scratched the back of his neck. "Probably because you know that whatever I say next concerns us and the role we must play in this war?"

Martha nodded. "I figured as much."

"We're going on a little trip," said the Doctor. "We need to hear exactly what the Shaman's last prophetic words were and whether they meant us or something else entirely. Kaza believes the words referred to us but he can't remember the exact words, just the gist of it."

"So, we're going up the mountain?"

"Yes we are."

"Right then, I'd better find something suitable to wear."

"You're fine as you are," he replied, pointing to the cropped jeans and purple top she wore. "It might be wise if you changed your shoes. Heals wouldn't be a good thing to wear since we're trailing up a mountain."

"Should I go barefoot then? I didn't exactly bring another pair of shoes with me, did I?"

"Well, it's a good thing that my pockets are bigger on the inside too, isn't it?" smiled the Doctor, producing a pair of plimsolls from his pockets.

Martha stared at him. "You can fit a pair of shoes in your pockets?"

He nodded, offering her the plimsolls. "You should've learned now to expect the impossible from me Miss Jones."

She had to admit, he did have a point. "I just didn't think that you could have a pair of shoes that are exactly the right size for me in your pockets."

He grinned at her. "Never underestimate me, Miss Jones."

"I rarely do," she replied.

* * *

Despite there being a path that led them straight to the Shaman's cave, Martha was quite glad that the Doctor did have bigger pockets on the inside. She was certain if she had worn her heels she would have fallen to an untimely death. The path was quite slippery, and crumbling away the further they went up the mountain. As they walked higher the pathway became narrow so much that they had to take extra care and walk sideways with their back facing the walls, as the navigated perilously along the dangerous route. Martha had to wonder why a respected Shaman had chosen to live high up in the mountains and at a place where people, if they lost their balance, could potential fall to their death.

"Easy does it," said the Doctor as he prevented Martha from stumbling over the edge of the pathway as it wound very close to the mountainside, leaving only room for one person to walk along the path.

"Thanks," she breathed. "How much further have we got to go?"

"No idea," admitted the Doctor. "Chief Kaza just told me to follow the path and we would come to a big opening in the mountain that is known to both tribes as the home of the Shaman."

As they rounded another corner, the path seemed to spread out in front of them, leaving a path that would fit more then ten people on it at once, side by side. The Doctor turned his head to the side. "Martha, I think we've found him."

She stood beside the Doctor looking at the man who sat cross-legged in front of a cave, staring at them.

"I have been expecting you," he said simply.

"I'm the Doctor and this is Martha Jones."

"Yes I know," the man replied.

_Of course you would say that! You've just been told our names! _thought Martha. She had the distinct impression that the Shaman was a phoney and that he had no mystical powers of any sort.

"You are strangers to our world and yet you like us," said the Shaman. "You are not human," he pointed to the Doctor, "and yet you are," he pointed at Martha. "You, Doctor, have a darkness that resides in your heart."

Martha glanced at the Doctor, but her attention was drawn away from him as the Shaman gave her a pointed look.

"You, Miss Jones, are an unbeliever. You think I have no power at all and yet I know you are from Sol 3."

"Sol 3?" asked Martha, confused.

"Sol 3 is Earth," whispered the Doctor.

"I didn't know it had another name."

"It's not something that is common knowledge on Earth," supplied the Doctor.

The Shaman leaned forward, his white beard, Martha noted, trailed to the ground. His eyes looked old, as if he had lived for thousands of years. "I tend to find that off-worlders do not believe in my ability unless I give them proof."

Martha felt instantly foolish. It seemed he could read minds too.

"There is no need for you to ashamed for not believing in supernatural powers," the Shaman replied in a soothing tone.

Martha gaped at him. "With all respect I should believe in these things. I have seen so much since travelling with the Doctor. He has opened my eyes to possibilities that I once thought improbable and yet I come here and find it difficult to believe in a man that has supernatural powers!"

"Sometimes you just have to have it demonstrated to you for you to believe it," nudged the Doctor, his eyes twinkling.

"What?"

And then she remembered: she hadn't believed that the TARDIS could travel in time until the Doctor had demonstrated it to her by going back in time and removing his tie in front of her past self. She shook her head, a slight smile on her face as she brought herself back to the present and followed the Doctor as he approached the Shaman.

"I believe you made a prophecy," said the Doctor. "Chief Kaza of the Northern tribe thinks it references my companion and me."

The Shaman nodded and gently stood up. He wore a long cloak that flowed to the cave floor, but his toes were just visible underneath. He had kind, deep blue eyes that showed wisdom and age. He beckoned them into the cave. There was a small fire burning away in the centre of the cave and against the cave's wall was a feather bed and a collection of pots and pans. The Shaman seated himself on one side of the roaring fire, indicating that the Doctor and Martha should sit on the other side facing him.

The Shaman closed his eyes and with his hands perched in his lap began to hum softly. An ethereal blue glow began to surround him and from his mouth came the words:

_They will come, _

_They will endure trials and pain to save us all, _

_The light will shine in darkness, whilst the other conquers all. _

_Those who rule in shadow, beware of him (and of her)_

_The bringer of your eventual death._

As the Shaman spoke, the words he was speaking were carved upon his cave wall in an invisible hand, allowing the Doctor and Martha to read the prophecy as well as listen. The ethereal glow around the Shaman faded and he slowly opened his eyes to stare at the words that the Doctor and Martha were reading over and over.

"Yes, yes, the words do mean you two."

"Why is the 'and of her' in brackets?" asked Martha, leaning back on her heels.

"I have no idea – I just make the prophecies, I have no say in how they are written down by the ethereal gods."

"But what do you think?" probed the Doctor, intent on getting the Shaman's view of the Prophecy. He didn't necessarily believe in prophecies but he did know that something dark was lurking in the shadows and this thing, whatever it was, could sense him. He was certain that this creature would learn of the Shaman's words and use them to its advantage.

The Shaman frowned and ran a weary hand down his face as he considered his next words. "You, Doctor, are too dark to be the 'light that shines in darkness', so that line refers to your companion. You will be the 'other' that 'conquers all'."

"An interesting theory," said the Doctor as he pulled at his earlobe.

"You do not share the same belief?"

"Oh, of course I do," grinned the Doctor. He could see Martha shooting him a suspicious look and raised his eyebrows at her, telling her to keep quiet. "But we must be on our way. It is getting dark after all."

The Shaman watched them as they left the solitude of his cave.

They began to descend carefully down the mountain, taking extra care not to trip or fall. Once they got past the difficult stages of the path Martha decided it was time for the Doctor to explain himself.

"Alright, you didn't believe what that Shaman said did you?"

"Nope! He went for the most complicated explanation instead of the most simple one. The prophecy has some truth in it, yes, but the way he tried to decipher it made it too complicated, so I'm disagreeing with him on that!"

"You think he got our places mixed up?"

The Doctor only raised his eyebrows at her, grinning broadly.

Whatever he knew he wasn't going to tell her, at least not yet.

* * *

"You see, I was right!" cackled Aziel, as she and Arrein sat in the confines of their tent that was situated at the base of their small cave, located further up the mountain from the Shaman's one. As they had originated from the Southern Tribe, the Southerners had to climb to near enough the top of the mountain and then walk down from the top to reach the Shaman. This was one of the reasons why Aziel and Arrein had chosen to live on the mountain rather then in the strict regime that was their native tribe.

What their tribe didn't know was that they held more power over them then their Chief. After all they were servants of their god and he gave them power over even the Chiefs. It was in the mountain that the creature grew in strength and the cave that Aziel and her brother occupied led to his domain.

They were quite ecstatic that the Shaman had given them what they wanted. Not even the two strangers had noticed their presence in the Shaman's home; for their master had kept them hidden. They now knew which one of the strangers to take that would enable them to defeat the prophecy.

The Shaman had identified the one named the Doctor as the 'one who would conquer all' and the other named Martha Jones as the one who would shine in the darkness.

"Brother, we now know who poses the most threat to us – the one named the Doctor."

"Yes, dear sister, as soon as I saw him I knew that he would be the biggest threat."

Then a voice echoed through the cave in which they sat.

_Then bring him to me. _

"Our master wants to meet him," said Aziel, rubbing her hands together in glee.

"What of the girl?" asked Arrein, wondering if he would get the chance to kill something.

_Leave the girl for now. Once you have taken her friend you will find it difficult to keep him in your grasp. Enlist the aid of your tribe – make sure that he is ready to meet me. _

Arrein bowed his head to the darkness.

"When shall we proceed?" asked Aziel.

_Tonight, _the voice returned.

Aziel, like her brother, bowed her head and whispered: "Tomorrow, my lord, you will have the Doctor in your grasp."

_I know I will. Now go. Bring me my prize. _

**To be continued…**

**Please let me know what you think! **

**Chapter six will follow soon. (It is still being written, so it is not available on Life on Martha either, which I hoped it would be). **

**magic-doctor-writer**


	6. Six: Capture

**A/N) **This chapter took a long time to type up, and for the lack of an update for a while, here is a super-long chapter! Fourteen pages long so I hope it is worth it.

**Word of warning: **Evil Cliff-hanger at the end, which is entirely not my fault. Well it is, but it has to happen, sorry!

* * *

**Oblivion**

**Chapter 6**

The Doctor and Martha arrived with ample time of the day left to discuss the Shaman's prophecy, who had originally told it to Kaza. The Chief listened intently to the Doctor's words and he ensured that a scriber was present so that the prophetic words could be recorded.

Kaza leaned back thoughtfully, considering what he had learnt. "The words refer to you and Martha – I would have thought that the 'light will shine in darkness' would refer to you, Doctor, certainly not Miss Jones. The Shaman said that you were too dark to be the light?"

"I believe he is referring to my soul. I get the feeling that the Shaman is able to sense what a person's soul feels like – and I know I've got a lot of darkness in me. It does appear on occasion." A blank look came into his eyes as he remembered the punishments he had given the Family that had been hunting him – that had been dark for him. "But I wonder –"

"Wonder what?" asked Martha, watching him closely as he stood up and began to pace round the hut, hand on his chin as his mind whirled with distinct possibilities.

"When I was in that cave I sensed something watching us – and if the Shaman is able to sense darkness then – oh yes!" He ran a hand through his hair. "That should be impossible – unless he's realised or coming to realise….would he really do that? What if he knew the same as me? Reversal? Deceive us? But not us?"

"Doctor!"

He spun round to see a befuddled Kaza and an angry Martha watching him. "What?"

Martha folded her arms and looked at him accusingly. "You're rambling again."

"Really?"

"You are," she confirmed.

"Sorry," he said, but his mind was still fast at work, turning over facts and wondering if the Shaman would really deceive the enemy when he hadn't before? Or did the Prophecy truly mean that Martha was meant to be captured? Yet the Doctor knew something dark had been in the cave as well, listening to the Shaman's words. The most obvious thing for the enemy to do was to come and take him since he posed the most threat and for some very strange feeling he thought that the Shaman had known that someone had been in the cave at the same time too and that he had deliberately changed their places in the Prophecy so that the right one of them was taken. Would the Shaman really do that? Did the Prophecy truly refer to Martha as the conqueror? She had the right qualities to make it be so and he believed in her.

"Are you going to leave us sitting in the dark or tell us what you have got worked out?" asked Martha, catching his eyes with her own.

"I'm still thinking – I've lost track now! Oh wait…"

And he resumed pacing.

"Does he do this often?" enquired Kaza.

Martha nodded. "He does it at least once a day. He tends to go off on a tangent." They could both here him muttering to himself as he continued to mess up his hair with both of his hands. "He'll come back to us in a minute."

They waited a few more minutes and then the Doctor stopped pacing, swung round, a big grin was plastered over his face and he pulled Martha to her feet, crushing her in a vigorous hug.

"Oh it's you, my wonderful Martha Jones!"

He let go of her and she took a deep breath.

"What's me?"

"The Prophecy!" he cried, beaming like an utter loony.

She raised her eyebrows at him. "If you hadn't noticed I am part of this prophecy anyway and you are too."

"No, no, no! Not in the way you think! Not in the way we were told! It's wrong – the prophecy is wrong – but is right as well!"

"Okay…." shrugged Martha looking back at Kaza to see a look of complete confusion on his face. Whatever the Doctor meant he wasn't doing a very good job of making them realise what he was going on about. "Are you going to be talking any sense anytime soon?"

"Huh?" The Doctor looked very surprised that she still had no clue.

She had to elaborate. "You are not speaking any sense at all, how am I meant to understand what you mean?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips.

"It might be best if you all sit down, and you Doctor, explain to us what you mean," suggested Kaza. "I'm only a simple being – I can't read minds. You seem to be operating on the fact that Martha and I can."

"But it is so obvious!" cried the Doctor incredulously.

"If it was wouldn't we know what you meant without having to ask you to tone it down a bit?" pointed out Martha.

Kaza nodded, agreeing vigorously. "You have to admit, Doctor, it does make sense. And we are wasting time here."

"Right, sorry. Sometimes I forget who I'm talking to," admitted the Doctor, sheepishly.

Martha shook her head. "That's alright. Apology accepted." She couldn't not forgive him.

"Now that's sorted can we get back to what we were discussing?"

"Certainly, Chief," the Doctor said thinking about saluting to Kaza but deciding not to. He rubbed his hands together and sat promptly down. "Now, in my view this Shaman is certainly unique. He can do things that not many people can. He is able to see into the future, speak to your ethereal gods and receive prophecies about how the world could be changed. Has he predicted many?"

"Yes," replied Kaza. "For years he has spoken of those that would help us defeat what is keeping us in this state of anger, yet those he has spoken of have been taken by the enemy and broken, hurt badly enough so that they cannot live up to the prophecy."

"Ah…I wonder then if he has learnt to change things round then preventing them from discovering the right people." He noticed that Martha was looking at him, curiosity on her face and he wondered if she was catching on but he also noticed that Kaza was still staring at him oddly, as if he had just spoken a load of rubbish.

"What have you worked out?" he asked once more.

"I think I get his drift," said Martha, frowning. "You said earlier that the prophecy was right and wrong at the same time – how can this be?"

Running a hand through his already messy hair, the Doctor leaned forward in his chair, his elbows resting on his knees. "The Shaman went for the most difficult interpretation of the prophecy and not the simple one. Not the one that comes and hits you in the face. I think what he said was deliberate."

"But why would he mess with our heads?" asked Martha. "There has to be a reason."

"To makes sure that the right one of us stays free,"

Her eyes widened as she finally figured out his meaning. "You really think that?"

"Yeah, I do."

Martha stood up. "He swapped our places, to deceive what?"

"The enemy," stated the Doctor.

"Are you saying that the Shaman lied?" questioned Kaza. Despite the fact that Martha had a vague idea what the Doctor was talking about, the Chief still did not understand what was going on nor did he realise what they were conversing about.

The Doctor turned to face him. "I think it be best if this was kept between Martha and I. Sorry."

"For security reasons?" enquired Kaza.

The Doctor nodded. "If you don't mind that is."

"Not at all," replied Kaza, sweeping away and out of their hut.

Martha folded her arms. "Let me see if I've got this straight: according to you, I am the one that 'conquers all' and you are the 'light that shines in darkness'?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"But the Shaman lied to deceive the enemy so that this darkness that you can sense could be destroyed forever?" she asked.

"Yes."

She frowned, biting her lip. "Thing is, Doctor, I am just a simple human. I'm not a Time Lord like you. What do I have that you don't?"

The Doctor arched an eyebrow at her, clearly surprised. "You're not just a 'simple' human, you proved that when we first met. I am positive that you can work everything out."

Martha slumped down in the chair, staring up at him. "I just don't want anything bad happening to you. I nearly lost you in 1913."

The Doctor pulled her into a hug. "I'm not that easily killed, and at least this time we have the fortune to know that something bad is going to happen. We have time to prepare for it, however little time we do get I don't know. We are considerably lucky to know this, Martha."

She looked at him, her brown eyes boring into his. "When do you think they will come for you?"

He ruffled his hair. "Oh, most likely tonight, but I'm hoping tomorrow since it will give us a little extra time. Tomorrow is very unlikely. If I'm right, and I hope that I am that the Shaman has deceived the enemy into capturing me instead of you as the Shaman implied, they will want to make sure I can't stop them. Even if the Shaman has got it right and I'm just looking into things too deeply I still believe you can help these people. You are a very unique human being, Martha Jones."

"Thanks." She lowered her eyes. A sudden though occurred to her. "If you are considered to be a threat to this enemy, isn't there a big chance of them just killing you on sight? The other prophecies spoke of children not yet matured so it was easier for them to be caught but you are different. What makes you so sure that they just won't kill you on sight?"

"It is a risk I'm going to have to take," he replied. "I don't like the thought of leaving you to sort this all out, but I know you can do it. If I'm right and you are truly the 'conqueror' of the prophecy you will have no trouble in working everything out. I don't think they will kill me - they've taken all the other prophesised ones. If they do make a move to kill me - then I have no idea what we'll do. I'm pretty sure they want me alive, if not we'll deal with it when the time comes."

The only thing Martha could do was hope that the Doctor was correct in his estimations. She was quite relieved that the Doctor believed in her to discover and end this situation on Maralus. Whatever she would have to do to work out the truth, Martha was not looking forward to the challenge while the Doctor was taken who knew where.

The only problem they had was to make his capture (if that was what the enemy was going to do) convincing. The next few days were not going to be easy, for either of them.

* * *

Despite living on the other side of the mountains on the plains of what had once been the forest of Myrad and the close proximity of the Northerners, the Southerners had rarely come into contact with a Northerner. Just three hours of marching would bring them to the enemy encampment. Though there was a war going on between the two fractions, battles were barely fought. It was only when someone went missing that an attack was launched. 

Tonight, however, was different.

Sister Aziel had come home, explaining that the Northerners had acquired a weapon that would enable them to wipe out the Southerners once and for all. It was imperative that this weapon be taken from them at all costs. They had been told that the weapon was a man who held immense power. She described him as a foreigner from another part of the world which the Southerners and Northerners were unable to reach.

She instructed them to bring the 'foreigner' back. They were to kill no one, if they could help it. Aziel assured them that her brother, Arrein, would accompany them and point out the man they required.

It was nearly four hours after midnight that the Southerners were approaching the Northern tribe. Very soon they would have the weapon that threatened their very existence.

* * *

Martha had retied to bed, wrapping a straw blanket round her to keep her body warm. It was rather uncomfortable to say the least and it was not the ideal time to sleep either, especially as she knew something bad was going to occur within the next few hours. She rolled over onto her back, staring up at the hut's ceiling. 

She sighed in exasperation as sleep escaped her. Sitting up she focused on the Doctor's bed on the other side of the hut but her heart began to pump quicker as her head her he was not there.

His bed was empty.

He wouldn't leave the hut without telling her unless he had a very good reason to. She chewed on her lip, wondering whether she should go and find him. Flinging the straw cover off, Martha slipped on the plimsolls that were beside the bed and walked out of the hut into darkness, searching for the Doctor.

* * *

He couldn't sleep, especially when he wasn't even tired. He stood leaning against a shoulder high, wooden wall, staring out into the plains of darkness. The only light from the moon had been obscured by the clouds above that according to his senses, seemed to be threatening rain. His hands were shoved in his suit pockets and he sighed audibly as he waited alone. 

_But I'm not alone_, his mind told him as he became aware that someone was standing beside him. He turned his head to focus on Martha's face. "You need to sleep."

"Can't," she shrugged, leaning back against the wooden wall as well. "It is very hard to get to sleep when you are waiting for your friend to disappear. A warning would have been nice – so that I didn't panic when I woke up."

He looked down at his plimsolls. "Sorry." He scratched the back of his neck. "I rarely sleep. Even when I have to I try to avoid it. Time Lords, unlike humans, do not need to rest. I wanted you to have a rest – keep your strength up."

"There's no other way?" she asked. "I have to remain free?"

"We've been over this – yes," he sounded agitated. He shook his head. "Sorry. I'm fairly positive that this is what must be. I know I can rely on you – you are brilliant and wonderful. I could have got the interpretation of the Prophecy wrong but I'm pretty certain it means you not me to be the conqueror of this darkness. I have faith in you – I did when I became John Smith – I still do now."

She smiled sadly. "I know – I just have this feeling that I will need your help."

He reached into his inner pocket and produced the Sonic Screwdriver pressing it firmly into her slender fingers. "You'll need it more then me."

"But I don't know how to use this!" replied Martha, attempting to hand it back to him, but he raised his hands in protest and she relented.

"I thought you would say that. This might help." The Doctor reached into his pocket again and pulled out a crunched up piece of paper which he handed to Martha. She unscrewed the paper. In the dim light that was visible, she could just make out the scrawny handwriting of the Doctor. He had listed down various settings of the Sonic that she might prove useful to her during his absence.

"I know you have no idea how to use the Sonic at the moment but I thought it might be useful if I gave you some settings that you might require."

"That is very thoughtful of you, Mr Smith," mused Martha.

"It would be a bit silly of me not to give you something that could help you with this especially since we have been forewarned of what is going to occur."

"That is fortunate then," she laughed.

He smiled at her lightly. "I'm always prepared."

"I think I can believe that," she smirked, remembering a few times when he hadn't been prepared. On those occasions they would have to run for their lives until he came up with a good plan that would enable to escape alive and save the people or planet that was being threatened.

"Good."

"You'd better come back alive," she demanded, though she was careful to say that in a light-hearted tone.

He grinned at her. "Oh, I will. I definitely won't be leaving you here on this planet." He debated whether to mention regeneration to her – just as a precaution. He had attempted to warn her of it when he had been possessed by the living sun but she had been far more concerned in his survival then worrying about dealing with another him. He was about to speak when he felt her hand grip him hard on the forearm.

"Doctor," her voice was filled with fear. "Something is coming towards the village." She pointed into the distance and his eyes swivelled round to rest upon the unmistakable glow of flaming torches, steadily heading their way.

"Back to the village!" he yelled, grabbing her hand and pulling her back in the boundaries of the Northern Tribe.

* * *

"Listen up!" Arrein called over his shoulder to the Southerners that followed him as they marched ever closer to the Northern tribe. He had witnessed the man they sought run back into the comfort of the village. "That man we saw flee into the tribe is the one we must bring back alive! Understand?" 

There was a chorus of shouts and Brother Arrein smiled as he thought of the bloodshed that would follow. Unlike his sister, Arrein had instructed his men to kill anyone that opposed them and also to kill a child. It wasn't because he was going against his sister's orders it was due to the fact that it was custom for death to be a part of any attack made on their enemies. Every time an innocent life had been taken and tonight would be no different.

He fingered the potion tucked away in his pocket, remembering the words his sister had told him before he had departed with the warriors.

_It is essential that the potion is administered otherwise our master will not be able to easily convert him. _

* * *

Panic erupted throughout the tribe as Chief Kaza instructed the women and children to flee to the back of the camp. The mothers grabbed their sons and daughters hands as their offspring attempting to protest against such an injustice. Martha forced herself to swallow the revulsion that rose in her throat as she heard screeching children demand to have a chance to shed the blood of the enemy. Kaza's words were far more empowering and he forced the young ones under the age of fourteen to follow their mothers to safety. 

The Doctor stood watching impassively from the side realising that he couldn't prevent this battle from occurring. He had already made it clear that he wouldn't fight, despite Kaza protesting against his decision.

Martha had seen the confusion in the Chief's face. He was still under the assumption that the Doctor was the 'one' and not herself, as the Doctor believed. "We don't have to work by Prophecy, do we?"

It was a question that had been bugging her since the Shaman had claimed it was about them.

"No, we don't," The Doctor replied. "Unfortunately we are going to have to. The darkness certainly is. Even without the intervention of the prophecy, I think it would have still tried to take me out. I can sense the darkness, and it can sense me. It knows I'm a danger to it. You would have been left alone regardless, no matter how much we both don't want this to happen."

Martha sighed, dreading the coming minutes.

Whether she liked it or not – they would be separated tonight and the Doctor would suffer while she tried to solve the puzzle that surrounded the tribes of Maralus.

* * *

"Forward!" His shout reverberated over the heads of the soldiers as they ran forward clutching wooden bats, daggers holstered in their belts and the other hand brandishing a burning torch each. Arrein kept his eyes focused entirely upon the Northern warriors standing in their way – preventing them from gaining access to the village. He held his own dagger in hand – though it was longer then the standard one issued to the warriors if his clan. 

The surge of Southerners thrust themselves against the ranks of Northerners engaging them in the brutality of war, each side attempting to take as many lives as possible by thrusting their weapons into that fatal place. The first victim was a boy of sixteen – the youngest recruit for the Southerners – but the child had done his duty. They were taught from a very early age that dying in war was the most glorious way to go.

Arrein could feel his master's strength flowing into him as anger consumed him – his hatred for the Northerners intensified as he thought over the thousands of deaths they had caused. With significant ease he threw an enemy to the side, pushed away a wooden bat that had been descending towards his head and twisted another Northerner's arm as the warrior made a move to stab him. Quick as a flash Arrein snapped the man's neck, throwing his body to the earth.

Within the first crucial minutes of the battle, many Northerners had suffered a grisly fate, but only six Southerners had been harmed.

The Northern ranks were crumbling apart and they began to flee back into the tribe. Arrein followed ordering his warriors to concentrate on finding their prize and to take the life of a child.

* * *

"I wasn't expecting them to order the death of an innocent child," said the Doctor as he heard the instructions the enemy had issued as they entered the camp. 

"Is there anyway to stop it?" asked Martha, her heart beating fast.

He shook his head, his face white. "No, but it doesn't mean we can't try." He grabbed her hand. "Come on!"

"Where are we going?" She ran along beside him, taking a risky glance over her shoulder. They were being pursued by at least seven of the attacking warriors. The huts of the village were being burned as the Southerners moved into the village.

They rounded a hut, took another turn and stopped. Martha leaned back against the hut, panting slightly. She really ought to have got used to all the running by now.

The Doctor, once again, reached into his pocket and pulled out his TARDIS key. "You can give this back to me later."

Martha's eyes bulged and she took it, clutching the key tight into her right hand. "But…"

He overrode her. "I don't have much time – but you need to keep both keys safe. If you succeed in this task and I'm still a prisoner, the enemy will do anything to survive. If they discover that I have a space-ship that would be their means of escape. As long as I don't have the key they cannot force me to let them into the TARDIS."

She nodded, realising the importance of what he was trusting her with. "I promise."

He touched her cheek, brushing his slim fingers down against her tender skin. She shivered and he smiled in sadness. "Well, here goes."

And then he was gone, running past her, towards the foray of Northerners and Southerners. She touched her still tingling cheek and wondered briefly if there was something between them after all.

* * *

Arrein had been quite surprised that the man they sought hadn't fought in the main battle and he hadn't expected him to appear right in front of him as he thought that. 

That was very convenient – too convenient in fact.

Then the man disappeared again.

Arrein cursed, realising that he hadn't got a good look at him. He would be easy to find though, considering that his clothes were not the standard for his people. Arrein continued to move forward with ease, He eyes caught a shade of a dark brown suit and he realised that this was the man he sought.

The man had hold of a child who was yelling and struggling to get at the enemies attacking her home. Arrein signalled to two of his warriors, indicating that he wanted that child killed.

What better way was there to break to the man's spirit by making it his fault that a child had died?

* * *

The Doctor attempted to keep hold of the girl that was struggling in his grip, determined to fight. When he had joined the fray of fighting – without any form of defence – he had seen the small child rush past him shouting words of anger and death. She must have somehow escaped from her mother. He judged her to be just over six years old. Around him lay the bodies of Northerners and a few Southerners. 

"Come on," he said, even as the girl kicked out at him.

"Must….fight….hurt…them!" she spluttered in anger. "Killed dad!"

"Oh no! I am taking you away from here!" He wasn't going to let a child die.

Despite her protests he managed to haul her away from the main dangers that the battle presented. But then he saw them: three, rather fierce Southerners were heading his way. It was evident that they had death on their mind and he considered the possibility that he was about to say good-bye to his tenth body. He pushed the child behind him, yelling for Martha who appeared round the corner holding a wooden bat. Obviously she had been attacked once he had left her and she had taken the advantage of an abandoned weapon to defend herself.

He shoved the child – still yelling furiously – towards Martha. "Get her to safety!" he instructed, turning back to face the enemy rapidly approaching him.

As Martha ran off dragging the child with her, the Doctor froze as he heard one of the Southerners speak: "Kill the child."

_This would have been a good time to use the Sonic_, the Doctor thought, briefly wondering why he had given it to Martha so quickly. Without even thinking he turned and ran in the direction she had fled, pursued by the three Southerners.

He rounded one of the huts that were not yet burning and side-stepped quickly into the entrance. He pursuers ran past and he leaned out, running his fingers through his hair. He had to stop them from reaching the girl and Martha.

He prepared himself for the inevitable.

* * *

The girl, the Doctor had instructed her to keep safe was quite a handful. She continued to screech and squirm while Martha tugged her along, hoping to get the girl to safety – hopefully in the arms of her mother. The girl deliberately stabbed her heels into the earth, hindering their progress. 

Then Martha fell to the ground having tripped over a rock that she hadn't seen due to the darkness. The girl slipped from he grasp and promptly attacked the three Southerners that had been pursuing them. Martha scrambled to her feet, but even as she did so she witnessed the Doctor grabbing one of the Southerners back.

But he was too late.

The girl's momentum had brought her straight onto the blade of a knife. The girl was dead, her blood dripping to the ground. The Southerner that had killed her slowly pulled the knife from the child's body, relishing the kill.

Martha felt instantly nauseous. She stumbled back, bile rising in her throat, ignoring the fact that the Doctor was being attacked by the Southerners.

Her head was telling her to help him but she couldn't bring herself to. Her eyes remained focused upon the child. The Doctor had charged her with keeping the girl safe and she had failed.

She was numb from shock and she could only watch as one of the Southerners lashed out at the Doctor, sending him backwards. He went reeling to the ground, collapsing completely. His attackers lunged at him, preventing him from gaining his feet.

The last thing Martha Jones saw before darkness consumed her was one of the Southerners forcing something down the Doctor's throat.

* * *

He struggled restlessly in the grasp of the Southerners. One of them grabbed his chin, holding his head still, even as another wrenched his arms behind his back and tying them together with thick rope. One pulled out a bottle of black liquid and attempted to administer it to him. He refused, stubbornly keeping his mouth closed. 

Then, the other Southerner that had been keeping an eye on their surroundings punched him right in the stomach. The Doctor couldn't stop opening his mouth as he took in a gulp of air. At the same time he felt the liquid being poured into his mouth. He attempted to spit it out but couldn't. He had to swallow the vile liquid as his airways were cut off. He coughed and spluttered as they hauled him to his feet.

"Now, move," the one that had killed the girl told him.

He had no choice but he made it difficult for them. He pulled away even as they tried to lead him out of the war zone.

"We can't move him if he continues to struggle," he heard one whisper.

"Then we do this," the one on the right said.

The last thing he felt, before darkness descended, was a sharp blow to the head and then he crumpled to the ground.

* * *

"Martha! Miss Jones!" 

Martha groaned as consciousness returned. She found herself on the floor inside a wooden hut, a blanket positioned over her body.

"Uh…"

"Are you okay?"

"I feel like I've got a thousand needles pounding into my head all at once," she said, wincing as she became familiar with the thumps of a headache. She focused upon Kaza who looked concerned for her welfare. "Is everyone alright?"

The Chief shook his head. "No, I'm afraid not. We suffered many casualties. A child was killed. And…I'm afraid that your friend is missing. We cannot find his body anywhere."

Martha swallowed. "I know."

"How?" the Chief asked.

"I was there when he was taken," she answered.

"He was taken?"

She nodded, realising the full extent of what she was left with. "They took him. I saw them murder a child and then take him – they poured something down his throat."

Kaza sat down beside her, crossing his legs. "Then it has happened again. The one that is meant to help us has been taken by the enemy. This war cannot end."

"Yes it can. I will make sure of that," she said, pushing herself up into a sitting position. "I promise you, Kaza, that I will solve this."

There was such determination in her eyes that Kaza just had to believe her. He only hoped that he wasn't putting her faith into her for nothing.

**To be continued….**

**Please let me know what you think! **

**Thank you for all the reviews so far! **

**Next chapter should be coming soon! **

**magic-doctor-writer**


	7. Seven: Mind Links

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed this story so far! **

**This chapter is much shorter then my last one, but the next installment should follow soon. ****

* * *

**

**Oblivion**

**Chapter 7**

She didn't know where to start. Martha stood watching the rebuilding of the huts that had been devastated by the fire the Southerners had started and which had spread quickly throughout the village during the course of the battle. Over half the homes had been burnt to a cinder and the deaths of several talented men who had helped build the huts had been killed.

The most shocking of all was the unnecessary murder of the small girl Martha had strived to protect at the Doctor's behest. The girls body had been wrapped in a blanket and placed in the centre of the village where the warriors that had died were awaiting cremation. The girl was being given the highest honour – she had been taken cruelly from life and deserved, according to Kaza, the warrior's rite of passage into the next life. She had not even reached the age to show her true potential, which made her death even more tragic.

Someone laid a hand on her shoulder and Martha started. She turned around to find Kaza watching her sadly, his eyes filled with sorrow.

"Dreadful, isn't?"

"Yes," she answered, not knowing what to say. She had not liked seeing the little girls death – no one deserved that type of fate to befall them. She felt numb once more as she remembered the dreadful scene, and she shook herself to prevent her from falling into the abyss that would only come if she continued to look back. She had to keep a clear mind, otherwise she wouldn't be able to help these unfortunate people.

"Do you know what you are going to do yet?" asked Kaza, his eyes locked upon the young girl's body.

"I have an idea," she admitted. Folding her arms, she proceeded to tell the Chief her thoughts. "I believe you have the right to understand what the Doctor denied you before – knowledge of what he thinks is going on. When I woke earlier you said that the war could never end."

Kaza looked at her quizzically. He frowned as she scratched the back of his head. "I did. The Shaman explicitly stated that the Doctor was the one the prophecy spoke about."

Martha lowered her gaze, considering how to break the news that the Doctor considered the prophecy to mean her and not him and that it was all an elaborate scheme by the Shaman to confuse the enemy. "The Doctor doesn't believe that. He thinks the Shaman twisted his words and that I am the one the prophecy spoke about."

"You?" The Chief had an incredulous look on his face. To say that he was shocked was an understatement – he looked almost frightened that his people's fate was in the hands of a young girl and not the shining man in armour that the Doctor was sometimes seen to be. "How is that even possible?" he managed to gasp as his mind overturned facts in his head.

"I have no idea!" she laughed, but then she became sombre once more. "The Doctor says I have what it takes but I just don't know where to begin. The only thing that occurred to me was to speak to the Shaman again but I'd rather he came here then I go to him."

"Why is that?"

Martha began to walk back the way she had come, away from the girl's body, towards the hut she had shared with the Doctor. "There was darkness in the cave with us. The Doctor sensed its presence. The Shaman is tuned into the ethereal plane, isn't he?"

Kaza nodded.

"The Doctor thinks that he changed him and I around to confuse the darkness so that it would come for the wrong one of us, leaving the right one free. Perhaps that is what the Shaman does with each prophecy you've heard – he swaps the names around – but you haven't deciphered the prophecy in that way."

"That could be possible," the Chief mused. "After all I don't have this 'sense' that the Doctor has. Nor do we have the intelligence to interpret things the way he does."

"That's not true – you are intelligent."

Kaza waved her hand. "If I was, I would have considered that possibility a long time ago. My people are just one in millions that the Doctor has met, am I right?"

"Yes." Martha couldn't deny him that knowledge.

"He has the foresight to see things differently – to not take everything at face value, whereas I do."

She considered his words and remembered something he had said before. "You mentioned yesterday that you felt forgiveness after your father died of illness."

"Yes," replied Kaza slowly.

"You forgave the Gods, even though they were meant to protect him from that kind of death?"

He nodded.

"Do you hate the Southerners for killing that girl?"

"No," he shook his head, surprised by his answer.

"You don't feel that you need to _hate _them and have **revenge **for her death?"

Once again he said "No".

"Why is that?" probed Martha. It was a feeling in her stomach that told her that Kaza was different from anyone else on this planet – apart from the Shaman of course.

The Chief shrugged, unnerved by Martha's questions. He strolled a little in front of her, flexing his fingers behind his back, considering the question. Finally he settled for: "I don't know. I just learnt to forgive. This war is pointless and meaningless. We hate each other for something that happened thousands of years ago. I feel regret that we cannot get to know each other – understand one another. I can forgive the Southerners for their damage to my home and the pointless deaths they have caused because this war has lost its meaning," he turned back towards Martha, smiling sadly. "I seem to be the only person who feels like this. I'm an outcast within my own tribe, but only a select few know of my feelings. Everyone else just hate."

"I think I'm beginning to get the bigger picture," said Martha, rubbing her hand underneath her chin, biting her lip. "I need to consult with the Shaman."

"I will send a courier to retrieve him. I am sure he will accede to your request."

"Thanks."

As the Chief strolled off, Martha risked a glance back towards the girl's body. Two figures were kneeling over her, garbed in black robes. Even from this distance she could tell that they were not grieving – they were praying for the merciless death of their child's killer. No tears were falling, and even though she could not distinguish what they were saying, a feeling in her bones confirmed that they were inciting hatred against her killer. She knew she was right, when the crowd that had formed round the body of the girl, yelled retribution against the people that had taken her innocent life.

* * *

The darkness was pleased with the turn of events – he could feel it rattling in his bones. The murky darkness of his cave was aligned with all the prophecies he had ever predicted. 

Today was different.

For the first time in years he had a victory.

Perhaps the war could end?

And the Shaman wondered what peace would be like on Maralus.

* * *

The darkness in his mind slowly lifted away as he became conscious of his surroundings. He could register the sounds of speech but was unable to decipher the words through the haziness that consumed his mind. Feeling was slowly coming back to him as the darkness retreated allowing him entrance into the waking world. 

"He's stirring."

"Good – we can continue our journey without having to lug him along."

_Journey? _He felt confused.

The Doctor blinked his eyes rapidly as he finally opened them. He discovered that his hands were tied securely behind his back and his ankles and thighs were also tied with rope. Two people were standing over him; a man and a woman. It was still dark – barely a few hours since he had been taken – and his captor's features were undistinguishable in the dark.

"He doesn't look like much of a threat, dear sister," the man mused. "He's too skinny for starters."

"He isn't much of a threat, especially when he is at our mercy," the woman laughed. There was a hint of something insane reflecting in her eyes. "Our legacy can continue, and our master can thrive – the threat against him has been dealt with."

_No it hasn't! _The Doctor thought stubbornly. _Martha is still out there! _But of course they didn't know that. He had a duty to protect Martha from discovery if he didn't then her job would become a whole lot harder. He only hoped he could cope with whatever "their master" threw at him. He was jerked out his reverie as the woman grasped his hair and pulled his head back. Her fingernails scratched at his skull and he hissed in pain. A dagger was pressed against his throat and he wondered if they were going to kill him.

"My brother and I have a long journey ahead of us unfortunately we have to drag your worthless hide along with us."

"You could just let me go," suggested the Doctor, knowing that his response would irk his captors, as he tried to swallow around the dagger.

"Not an option – and neither is killing you either. Our master has expressed a desire to meet you and we will not disappoint him. You have a choice – obey our every command and you won't be harmed, but if you don't we will make sure you suffer. We can ensure that you spill all your darkest secrets and we could learn everything about you – if we tried. We could, if you want, resort to hurting your little female friend."

He couldn't risk Martha's safety by misbehaving.

"Understand?" the man replied.

"Yes," the Doctor said.

The man folded his arms. "Good. Aziel, untie him."

"Certainly, Arrein," the woman smiled. "You will move when spoken to."

Aziel released the grip she had on his hair and withdraw the dagger from his throat. She untied his ankles and thighs, followed by his wrists.

"Get up."

He did as he was ordered, facing the woman, making sure he made no sudden moves.

"Hold you hands out in front of you."

He placed his hands in front of him, and Aziel, with the rope that had been discarded after she had first untied him, began the process of twisting the rope around his wrists again. He winced as he found the rope was tight enough to cut off the circulation to his hands rendering them numb.

"You will walk forward and not talk unless requested to answer," snarled Arrein. "Remember if you do anything that we do not approve of…" he trailed off, moving round in front of the Doctor so that his captive could see his thumb stroking the tip of his dagger. The meaning was clear.

Aziel started to move off and began climbing the path that the Doctor recognised that led to the Shaman's cave. It was still quite dark, but daylight was fast approaching. He could sense a darkness probing his mind as he followed his captors, attempting to break through his defences he had constructed around his mind.

He swallowed, focusing his mind to concentrate upon the darkness that probed at his consciousness. This had happened before – when he had travelled up the mountain with Martha to visit the Shaman. From the moment he had started to ascend to the moment he had descended the mountain there had been the sense of something dark reaching out to him. He knew now that this was the darkness that held influence over Kaza's people.

Ascending past the Shaman's cave, the Doctor felt the darkness become stronger then it had been before, and he bit back a whimper of pain that threatened to come as the creature intensified its attacks on his mind.

"Master is talking to him, sister," mused Arrein.

"Excellent," the woman replied. "Master can learn how much harm he can do to us. Soon he will be one of us."

The Doctor barely registered their speech, so intent was he on the consciousness that was slowly delving deeper into his mind. No matter what defences he put up, he could not keep it back.

It was too strong to fight against.

And he had to wonder if getting himself captured had been the most sensible idea.

* * *

Nearly five hours after she had requested to meet the Shaman, Martha Jones found herself sitting cross-legged in the middle of her hut, eyes closed and humming to herself, as the Shaman sat in the same position in front of her – minus the humming, of course. 

She didn't know what to say, so she waited while the Shaman meditated.

She had been sitting here like this for thirty minutes and though she was consumed with fear over the Doctor's fate she had the feeling that he was still alive and well. She opened her eyes to glance at the Shaman, who seemed to stir as her gaze met his closed eyes and he emerged, from what Martha assumed, was the ethereal plane that he had been roaming in spiritually.

"You wished to speak to me Martha Jones?"

She nodded and slid a hand through her hair which was now loose on her shoulders. "I do. I need to know…"

"Whether you are the one that the Prophecy refers to," interrupted the Shaman, his eyes shining with knowledge.

"Yes," said Martha. "The Doctor believes you switched us deliberately."

"I did," the old prophet confirmed. "It was only though the Doctor that I realised the enemy was watching us. It was invisible to me, but not so to your friend. The darkness was curious about you two, but more so of the Doctor then you. It knew that your friend sensed it. I can sense the presence of people in my cave, but meeting with you two I sensed three and I have never done so before. Your friend enabled me to sense the darkness that resided in my home – allowing me to figure out that I had been unintentionally betraying my people. I switched your names round and I think the Doctor got a sense of that. I can take myself to the ethereal plane, and your friend is a part of that too. He is telepathic and the gods talk to me through telepathic means. I managed to link with your friends mind, but it was well defended, yet he didn't sense me trying to invade."

"Why not?" Curiosity filled Martha.

"He was distracted by the darkness that had targeted his mind and was trying to figure out where this stemmed from."

Martha frowned. "When you linked briefly with the Doctor's mind you realised that the darkness was in the cave and could learn the identities of those that were a threat to it?"

"Yes, this is why I swapped your names round. If I hadn't risked that connection I would have unintentionally sealed your fate, but now my home as a chance. A chance of peace because I had the foresight to attempt a mental link with the Doctor that enabled me to sense the darkness in my cave."

"Are you the only one who is telepathic on this planet?" she asked, as an idea began to form in her head.

"We all are linked in some way, but I have the stronger connection then most which is what sets me apart from my kin."

Martha licked her lips, twiddling her fingers as she considered the idea that she was about to put forward. "If your people are telepathic, is it possible for emotions to be influenced though that link?"

"It is possible," the Shaman answered. "Yes, entirely possible. When I reach out to my kin I sense anger and the thirst for revenge; I have noticed, on occasion, that when someone dies or is hurt badly – the whole tribe flock together, united in anger and revenge. Their feelings ripple through me like a blade, scarring me inside."

"I think I know what could be going on," said Martha.

There was only one thing that bothered her – she needed the Doctor to tell her she was right, otherwise she felt unsure of her thought. Unfortunately he was far away from her – and she had to decide whether she had discovered what really was going on on this planet.

She was certain that it had something to do with the darkness being able to influence people's emotions. She just had to find out more.

**To be continued...**

**Please let me know what you think!**

I hope this didn't confuse anyone with the emotions and stuff.

Until next time,

magic-doctor-writer


	8. Eight: That Particular Flower

**A/N) Thanks for all the reviews so far! I will try to get another chapter up before Christmas! **

**Eight**

She had decided that it would be best if she visited the murdered girl's parents. The Shaman remained in the tribe having decided not to return to his cave, especially since it seemed the darkness could reside in there without him noticing. She didn't know if the enemy could reside within the Northern Tribe – for her to succeed she surely hoped that it couldn't, otherwise she would be in a lot of trouble.

Martha walked towards the centre of the village where the girl's parents were still preaching hate against their daughter's killers. A lot more people had joined them since she had spoken with the Shaman. She moved gently through the crowd, careful not to agitate them further. The tension was high and she shivered as the words they spoke penetrated her thoughts, making her feel uneasy.

She swallowed and knelt down beside the couple who were sitting cross-legged on the ground, beside their daughter, whispering words of anger and retribution. The mother was slowly patting her dead daughters head.

"Excuse me." Martha leaned down and spoke quietly enough that she hoped wouldn't wind up the entire group of people that surrounded the couple.

The woman's dark eyes caught her own and Martha fought the urge to shiver as she stared in the soulless depths of the eyes. There was anger stirring behind those brown orbs and Martha wondered if she had made a mistake in disrupting their preaching.

"What?" the woman's voice was hard and un-emotional.

"I need to speak to you and your husband, please." A bit of courtesy might help. "It's about your daughter."

"We are praying for revenge, you should know that."

Martha bit her lip. "I'm not from around these parts – your culture is unfamiliar to me."

"Why would an outsider want to speak to us?" said the husband, glaring at Martha. In his overly large hand he held his daughters cold one.

"I need some information – and there is something you ought to know about your daughter's death."

"It was you." The woman's sharp eyes bore into Martha's own, accusing her of her daughter's death. "You killed her."

Martha raised her hands, shaking her head. "No, I didn't. But I know what happened to her – I saw her die. It was partly my fault but I didn't harm a hair on her head." She crouched on the ground, her knees pushing into the mud.

"You can talk to us here," the father ordered.

"I can't," beseeched Martha. "It is a matter of importance that I speak to you alone."

"Then we will come to you later when we have finished our work."

Martha nodded, seeing no other way to convince them to come with her now. She stood, nodded to them and walked away. She was fully aware that the crowd was watching her, but once she was more then ten metres away from the body of the girl the crowd, and likely the parents, continued their revenge chant.

She decided to explain to Kaza her findings. She felt bad about leaving him in the dark and after all he had risked the life of one of his tribe to bring the Shaman to her. Walking through the tribe back towards the Chief's hut, Martha found to her surprise most of the un-damaged huts completely empty. Glancing over her shoulder she was not surprised to see the majority of the tribe comforting the girl's parents. The Chief was not among them.

_Of course he doesn't incite hatred. He doesn't see the point – it prolongs the war they are in the middle of in. _

"Miss Jones? I presume you are coming to speak to me?"

She turned back, a slight smile on her face. "I was, unless you are going somewhere?"

Kaza shook his head, holding a long staff in his hand that was made of wood. "I was just going to pray. Would you like to join me?"

Martha nodded, accepting the offer. She had a chance to possibly learn more about Kaza's people and their culture. She had guessed the rest of Kaza's tribe were wary of her due to her difference to them. Instead of his usual attire of robes, Kaza wore a simple cloak. His shoulder length, silky black hair rested on his shoulders and he moved with ease. The Chief led Martha towards the forest that she and the Doctor had arrived in.

"This is the Forest of Cubhe – it means bountiful. This forest used to be abundant with food and water. The wildlife used to live in harmony but now what remains is endangered. This forest is strictly off limits to everyone, save for myself and the Shaman."

"Why is that?" asked Martha. They had just entered the forest, and Martha found herself taken by the beauty of her surroundings. It had only been two days since she and the Doctor had arrived and discovered the barren wasteland that Maralus had become. The beauty of the forest had quickly vanished from Martha's mind in the wake of the wasteland of the planet, the hearing of the prophecy and the Doctor's capture.

"I'd forgotten its beauty," whispered Martha as she gazed intently at the many different species she had not seen when she and the Doctor had been exploring this place. "Why has this place remained untouched?"

"A long time ago the many fractions agreed that one part of our world should remain undamaged by the war – it is a place where we can visit in harmony, if we so wish but no one has ever done so in hundreds of years. I am the only one who visits. It is a place I can visit in times of stress, like now," he sighed. "I am fed up of war – and this place feels like it is a part of a different world. It is the only sacred place where war cannot touch it. What is your world like?"

Martha was surprised by the question. She hadn't realised that the Chief had known that she was not from this world. Her mind focused on Earth as she considered what to say. Her home life wasn't easy, not with her mother constantly fretting over 'who the Doctor was' and that 'he was dangerous'. At least she had moved out before the trouble with her parents had started. She still hadn't gone for that dinner she had promised her mother after nearly falling into the sun. Of course the Doctor could just take her to that specific evening – that is, if he survived this.

"My world is in a state of war – but not in the way it is here," she responded, picking the words carefully. "There is a degree of peace as not everyone is affected by the troubles in the world, but there is always something going on. There are more people on my planet then on Maralus – billions of people. There are places like this but just not so beautiful."

"You have the ability to travel to the stars as well?" mentioned Kaza as they walked through the undergrowth.

"No, we don't." Martha shook her head.

"Then how did you get here if you don't have that ability?"

"The Doctor is an alien to me – he isn't the same species as me. He comes from another planet himself. He saved me from a terrible death," she remembered the Judoon and them leaving the people of the hospital to die, "and asked if I wanted to have a trip around the universe – I said yes. I left my family behind – they don't know that the Doctor is an alien, they don't even know I am not even on Earth…" she trailed off, realising that she felt bad about not telling her parents the truth. They deserved to know the truth even if her mother was paranoid about the Doctor.

"Do you miss your family?"

"Yeah, I do," she felt sad. How long had it been since she had seen her mother or even called her? _Over three months…_She had spent two months in hiding in 1913 and nearly a month had passed by since leaving that time period. _I'm gonna have to call her at some point…_

Martha turned back to Kaza, lightly smiling.

"This where I feel at peace, feel at calm and a place where I feel free from the burdens I carry."

"You carry?" asked Martha, squatting down beside the Chief as he sat down in the middle of a clearing that was surrounded by tall tress. Above them, Martha could see the sunlight pouring down in the gaps of the leaves, basking them in sunlight. The warmth on her skin was quite comforting. She started to fumble with a tiny flower that was growing beside where she had rested her palm on the ground. She vaguely recognised it as the plant she had asked the Doctor about before they had been drawn into this war, before they had even met Kaza….She recalled him saying that it was poisoned, but as she looked up she saw the Chief pulling another one of the flowers from the ground and place it delicately in his mouth and begin to chew upon it.

"The Doctor said that was poisoned," she pointed out, feeling obliged to inform the Chief of this little fact. She didn't leap forward to force the Chief to spit it out as that would have been pointless as most of the flower had been swallowed by the time she had voiced what the Doctor had told her.

"If he's a different species to you and I then it could be to him, but it certainly isn't to me. I've been eating this plant since just before my father died," suggested the Chief. "Ofhorn soothes the mind, helped me feel forgiveness…made me see that this war is pointless." He laughed then, considering what he had just said. "That's just silly – a little flower prevents me from being like my people, from hating every Southerner? It's a ridiculous idea. Forget what I said Martha Jones. It won't help you one bit."

But Martha had taken notice. And she began to wonder if that plant, the Ofhorn that she had inquired about with the Doctor, might be the key to unravelling it all.

* * *

His head was on fire.

Not literally of course as that would really hurt.

The darkness continued to attack his mind. Whatever it was, was powerful. A strong and unknown entity was something that he could be afraid of, but admitting that freely would give the creature an advantage that it didn't deserve to have. So far he had managed to prevent the entity from learning about Martha and the prophecy's true meaning but it was hurting him. It was taking most of his strength to resist against it – and he knew that if he tried to fight back it would make his situation even more difficult.

His captors were dragging him along themselves, his feet no longer responding as he continued the fight in his mind. Every few minutes he grunted from the exhaustion the effort was making him. The Doctor gritted his teeth as a painful stab in his mind wrecked through his body. He bit his lip preventing himself from yelling himself hoarse. He had a mission and that was to protect Martha. He couldn't be weak – he couldn't give in – but no matter how much he tried, the pain just got worse.

_You are weak. _

It was talking to him – he could hear the cruel voice reverberating in his head, demanding that he break and let it consume him.

_What are you? _

It had realised he wasn't of this world, its suspicions would be roused and possibly then target Martha….no… he shook his head, shoving the thought of Martha out of his head. He couldn't endanger her.

_You like her? Perhaps I should hurt her? _

"Leave her alone!" he yelled out, startling the two people hauling him along the path.

_Then tell me what you are. _

The offer was so tempting but he wasn't going to take it. He clenched his eyes shut, preventing a scream from ripping from this throat – he buckled in his captor's grip as immense pain ran through his body.

He could feel the creature stretching its will through his mind, trying to reach to the core of his mind, where all his secrets were stored. He was constructing mental shields continuously around that area, even as the creature tore them down. No one had been able to get into his mind like that before – apart from Reinette of course, but he had unintentionally opened his mind to her, without realising that a door once opened could be stepped through. The creature was forceful, powerful and dark, restless in its quest to break his mind and make him divulge everything he knew.

And then without warning the darkness faded from his mind leaving him utterly exhausted and panting for breath. He continued to erect shields in his mind, covering the cracks that the creature had made. He thought briefly of Martha and hoped with all his heart that she was alright.

_So you do care for her…_

The darkness was back, having returned as quickly as it had departed. Just thinking about Martha had given the creature valuable information. He cared for her deeply, a lot more then he had ever thought possible. Rose's loss had scarred him, and he hadn't wanted to take Martha into his heart and lose another person close to him – and yet the medical student from London had gradually warmed her way into his hearts, despite his attempts to keep her at bay.

He couldn't lose her otherwise he would be alone once more and he didn't want that.

_You are so alone, aren't you? _

The creature had picked up on his thoughts. The Doctor realised with horror that his reflections upon Martha had enabled the creature to claw its way deeper into his mind, seeking out the secrets and personal things he had kept hidden for so long. Only one other person really knew of his love for his home world and that was Martha – he had trusted her with so much – and he kept on asking, never giving anything back to her. He had continued to push her away.

Grief welled up in him, and as the creature scrabbled away, clawing at old and abandoned memories, the Doctor swallowed, before mustering the fear he had of his situation and fought back against the darkness that had a firm hold on his mind. He was screaming, buckling in his captor's grip and then he fell into the utter bliss of unconsciousness.

His mind, for now, was completely shut off from the creature that was tormenting him.

* * *

Martha had prayed with Kaza to the Gods his people worshipped in hope, that if they truly existed, that they would help her in her mission. She had politely departed from the Chief after his prayers were done, leaving him to contemplate his thoughts. Martha returned to the village, feeling drained, but almost heartened by what she had discovered. 

Before she had left Kaza to attend to his own devices, Martha had collected about fifteen of the Ofhorn plant back with her to the Northern Camp. Kaza had explained to her that as a child he had been told that the plant was dangerous and death would swiftly follow – it had been a natural instinct in his brain making him believe this truth. Martha had learnt that Kaza had eaten the plant just after his brother's death but before his father's dying day. He had come to what remained of the forest to pray to the gods in a place that was considered a sanctuary. There he had met the Shaman, who had given him the plant to eat, telling that it would aid him. Despite what his peers had told him about the poisonous plant, Kaza had chosen to trust his father's long-time friend, and eaten the plant. Since that day he had felt more at peace with himself, as if he had been cured of the darkness that held the planet of Maralus in its grip.

And that had made her wonder.

As she had possession of the Doctor's sonic screwdriver and his little crunched up piece of paper of his instructions which he had given her before his capture, she intended to scan the flower and see what the results said about Ofhorn.

Martha entered her hut and rummaged through her belongings until she found the Sonic device. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Martha held the Sonic device in one hand, while holding the piece of paper flat on the ground, and scanning it, trying to find the right combination code that would enable her to scan or analyse the flower.

There.

Written in the Doctor's scrawny handwriting, half-way down the page, were the settings:

**SCAN/ANALYSE – **3771

Picking up one of the Ofhorn flowers she had brought back, Martha corrected the Screwdriver's combination number and began to scan the flower.

There was just one flaw that the Doctor hadn't thought of – Martha couldn't understand the results of the scan. There was no output screen that displayed the results – the Doctor hadn't thought of that one insignificant barrier.

The Sonic Screwdriver, aside from the TARDIS, was the Doctor's most prized possession and it couldn't aid her one bit.

* * *

Since the Screwdriver was useless to her, Martha had decided to make her way back to the TARDIS. Night had fallen by the time she left the tribe and began to tread the path that would lead her back to the TARDIS. She had not told anyone where she was going, and despite her fear of walking alone in the dark on an unknown planet, Martha knew she had to do it. She had a mission to accomplish and she wouldn't succeed if she waited until morning when her departure could be viewed by everyone. 

Thankfully there were no clouds that night, allowing Martha to see her path due to the light of the moon and stars. She moved quickly, determined not to give anyone the chance to attack or follow her.

She knew that they had found the path that had led them out of the forest after wandering through the forest. The Sonic Screwdriver was useful for something. She had set the Sonic to take her to the TARDIS, therefore preventing her from getting lost in the forest since the TARDIS had been set down nowhere near the path.

Eventually she found the blue box, standing where they had left it. The TARDIS was surrounded by the beauty and splendour that Maralus had to offer. She stopped, ensuring that no one was coming after her. She slipped the chain from around her neck off, which she had stored both hers and the Doctor key and unlocked the door. Taking one last glance around, Martha stepped inside.

**To be continued...**

** Please let me know what you think! **

** Chapter Nine will be posted soon.**

**magic-doctor-writer **


	9. Nine: Cure?

**Here is the next chapter in my story! I hope it is worth the wait! Hopefully it isn't too confusing. **

* * *

**Nine **

She was startled, upon entering the TARDIS, to find a slight feminine touch in her mind.

_Hello Martha Jones. _

The TARDIS was communicating with her – she had never done so before - but she had noticed since she had been travelling with the Time Lord that the Doctor had a telepathic link with his ship. Martha had realised that the Doctor and the TARDIS were connected in mind, and he was closer to her then he ever would be to Martha herself. She hadn't truly known how deep the connection with the TARDIS was to the Doctor until after he had dealt with the vile Family of Blood. During her time in 1913, serving as John Smith's maid, Martha had regularly visited the time ship to make sure she was safe and undiscovered. On several occasions Martha had said 'hello' and had felt a little nudge in her mind in reply, but she had never thought anything of it. She had dismissed it as her imagination and chosen to believe she was talking to a machine. She remembered calling the TARDIS that several times and Martha figured that the sentient being probably wouldn't have liked that. Once the Doctor had been restored, his ship had promptly told him of Martha's disregard of the TARDIS's feelings, but that information had enabled the Doctor to explain to his companion more about his connection to his ship and her capability to speak to others.

"Hello," she replied, feeling unsure what else to say. She bit her lip wondering if she should ask the question that had formed in her mind.

_Go on…_

At the ships urging, Martha made her way to the labs after asking where the labs were. One time she had been exploring the TARDIS on her own initiative and had got lost. Luckily she had stumbled across the Doctor in the labs experimenting on something he had picked up on one of their many journeys across the stars. The only thing was, Martha had absolutely no idea where the labs were but she knew there were some.

The TARDIS directed her, nudging her mind to let her know what the correct way was when she came to intersections in the ship. Eventually she came to the doors that led to the labs and she stepped inside. The labs were white, and cabinets aligned the walls. A large table sat in the middle with three Bunsen burners attached to one length of the table.

Upon the table sat a data-pad which she had seen the Doctor use on countless occasions. Grabbing it, Martha placed it in front of her and perched herself down on one of the stools that aligned the table. She lifted up the bag she had brought with her that held the fifteen Ofhorn plants and placed it upon the tabletop. She laid the samples out on the clean tabletop and hunted round for three small clear tubes, a knife and a small micro-scope.

With the equipment ready in front of her, Martha collected herself and began to work, first by scanning the flower with the Sonic Screwdriver once more and then plugging the device into the data-pad, upon which the data that she needed materialised on the screen, listing all the details she needed to know.

The data that she collected showed the properties of the plant and what it was made of. She was quite surprised to learn that the plant held a little bit of Aspirin in the centre of the stem, which made it poisonous to Time Lords, which was why it was fatal to the Doctor and not to Kaza. Why a plant was made of Aspirin she had no idea and her scan of the plant failed to provide any concrete answers.

She hadn't noticed before but the plant, down the stem had tiny nettles that when touched oozed honey. The compounds and properties of the plant were so alien to Martha that she was struggling to comprehend how a plant could be a poison and a cure at the same-time. Ofhorn had succeeded in having properties that were impossible. Aspirin and honey was not something that you would be advised to take together. Martha came to the conclusion that the plant was a herbal remedy and the combination of so many differing ingredients was the cause of why the plant was so unique and helped Kaza push back the anger that had held him in its grip for so long.

In simpler terms it was a medicine and that it was a soothing one that enabled the darkness to be pushed back away from the people that took it. The darkness that the creature commanded blocked out the emotions that the people of Maralus could no longer connect with, such as love and grief. Upon eating the Ofhorn flower, Kaza had unintentionally beaten the block and the pent up emotions and swarmed through, allowing the Chief to experience grief, sadness and forgiveness: all the feelings that the creature had prevented them from feeling. It seemed that the darkness needed feelings of anger and revenge to survive and the way to defeat it and free the people was to release the 'captured' emotions of happiness, sadness and forgiveness by getting them to eat the plant.

All Martha Jones had to do now was convince the people of Kaza's tribe to eat the Ofhorn flower, but first she would have to test it upon someone else first to prove her theory correct. She needed to discover if the flower really was the solution to the problems that were continuing to plague the people. She still had to speak to the dead girl's parents. Yesterday when she had spoken to them, they had decided to meet up after they had finished with their praying by their daughter's side however that hadn't come to pass due to Martha's walk with Kaza, the finding of the Ofhorn flower and discovering that the Sonic Screwdriver was completely useless unless she had a data-pad handy.

The ultimate test would be to see if the flower enabled the girl's parents to grieve and forgive her killers. The darkness pressing on their minds, urging them to hate should have less influence upon them. She just had to get them to eat it without raising their suspicions.

_I can do that, I think. _

* * *

The Doctor woke form the oblivion that he had been drifting in since the darkness had consumed him, to discover that he was leaning, slumped against a wall. It was dark and just a little bit chilly. He was no longer in the outside world, but (from what he could tell in the dreary light) secluded in passages within the mountain that he and his captors had been ascending when he had fallen unconscious. 

His wrists were still tied in front of him. He looked around trying to determine whether he was alone. Deciding that he was the Doctor lifted his bound wrists to his mouth and began to gnaw upon the rope. He knew his situation could only get worse if his captors returned to him and he ought to take advantage of their absence to attempt to escape.

_You think you can escape? _

The Doctor stilled; the hairs on the back of his neck rose. He swallowed, hoping that he had imagined the cruel voice in his mind.

_I am not of your imagination. _

"I was afraid you would say that," replied the Doctor, still biting at the ropes, knowing that it was a futile attempt. "What do you want from me?"

_I want you to break and serve me, exactly like I have done with all the other prophesised ones. You may be different, but it is a challenge that I will not easily give up on. You are, in comparison, quite weak to all the others._

"I am stronger then you give me credit for," he hissed in return.

_Yes I know, but you are still weak, even with all those mental barriers constructed around that pitiful brain of yours. However I know your weakness._

"I have no weakness," spat The Doctor.

_Are you so sure of that? _The creature slyly asked.

In his mind's eye the Doctor could see the creature grinning at him, a cruel smile pulling at its features. He wished he knew what it looked like but he wasn't in the physical presence of the beast and he doubted he ever would be.

"Yes."

_Yet your defences weaken when you dwell upon a certain Martha Jones…_

The Doctor's hearts stilled, but he swallowed the fear that had built up in his chest and muttered: "Your threats are meaningless."

_We'll see about that. _

And then the pain descended once more upon his already battered mind.

* * *

The stood, leaning back against the back of the cave, eagerly waiting for their next instructions. Aziel grinned toothily at her brother, relishing the screams that were coming from their prisoner. 

"He is quite strong for someone so skinny as him," she cocked her head to the side, scrutinising the writhing form of the Doctor that lay ten feet in front of them. "Normally they would be beginning for mercy by now – perhaps harming the girl is the next best option. If isn't breaking then we must move onto stage two."

Arrein scratched his chin, frowning. "You are probably right, but it is not a good idea to act without our master's backing. The girl will help us break him – the pain factor doesn't seem to be working as effectively as it should do."

"The anger approach?" suggested Aziel.

"No, he seems to be in control of that," dismissed Arrein. "Our master cannot grow stronger with this Doctor's emotions, but it is essential to our success to ensure that he breaks and cannot do any further harm if we decide to release him."

"Then we should just kill him. If he isn't able to aid us then his death will not matter. Releasing him is not an option, even if we do break him." Aziel folded her arms, stepping to where the Doctor lay, trembling in pain, muttering in an undecipherable tongue.

_He is not of this wor__ld. He was born on another planet, which is why he is a tougher opponent then your people. _

"What of the girl?"

_Alien same as him but she is from another civilisation._

They knew of outsiders to their world, for the creature itself had originated from the stars however they had not met an alien face to face before.

"What species is he?" asked Aziel, intrigued by this information.

_I do not know, _came the reply. _He hides his identity well. But I do know one thing about him. This girl, this Martha Jones is his weakness. You need to bring her to me; her dying screams in front of him, will serve as his breaking point. _

The two siblings smiling down at the twitching form of the Doctor, know full well that their master would break him and use him against the people he had been prophesised to save. All it required was the death of Martha Jones.

* * *

_Miss Jones will shortly be joining us. _

The Doctor drew a ragged breath as the world of consciousness flared into existence once more.

"No," he muttered, "leave her alone."

_Why should I? Both of you pose a threat to me? Why should I allow her to live? _

"Because she is a nobody." He hated describing the wonderful medical student like that, but it was the only way to convince the entity that Martha meant nothing to him, when in fact she was his wholeworld. Martha was an incredible person, taking everything in her stride and willing to do anything for him despite the circumstances they found themselves in. He had been extremely proud of Martha's ability to adapt to 1913 – he knew deep down that the biggest reason for his companion's will to aid him whatever way she could was down to the fact that she loved him.

Just like Rose.

He could not deny the fact that he had led her on, because he had. The genetic transfer had been a risky tactic to use, but it had been the only thing he could do in the circumstances they had been in. If he had known in advance what the affect would be in upon her he wouldn't have risked it, he would have thought of something else. The Doctor closed his eyes sighing audibly. He had denied Rose his love, and it had hurt to do so. Martha, like Rose Tyler, had crawled her way into the hole that had been left behind by the deaths of the Time Lords. Both of them had succeeded in filling his heart with joy.

_If I survive this I'll set things right. Martha deserves that much. I'll tell her how much she means to me. _

Ever since inviting the doctor to be on board the TARDIS, the Doctor had constantly been pushing her away, to prevent her from becoming as close as he had been with Rose. Ironically she had succeeded without him noticing and to make him feel worse, he had been making her feel unwanted, especially with his constants mentions of how Rose would have done things differently. Yet both of his girls were equal – Martha shouldn't feel like that she should live up to the name of a ghost, a person who he would never see again. He had missed out on telling Rose how much she meant to him, but he had a second chance with Martha. If he got out of here, the first thing he would do was ensure that Martha Jones no longer felt like 'just a companion' to him, but a close friend, just like Rose Tyler had been.

Collecting his thoughts together, the Doctor mustered himself, knowing that it would only be a matter of time before the pain returned to consume him once again.

* * *

Martha sat cross-legged in front of Arka and Myza, the parents of the girl she had failed to save when the Southerners had attacked the camp and captured the Doctor. The Ofhorn flower was piled in a small bowl, but next to that were two wooden shaped cups which were filled with water mixed with some mashed Ofhorn flowers. The bowl and cups were stacked upon a small wooden table. If the parents didn't adhere to eating the flower, Martha hoped that they would try the drink (which had been concocted by the Shaman when she had explained the relevance of the flower and Kaza's changing emotions due to munching on the plant). The Shaman had agreed with the conclusion that the Ofhorn flower was the cure. She didn't know how distributing the cure would affect the creature's influence on the people, however she hoped that it would weaken it enough. 

The creature fed on the anger, hatred and revenge emotions that the people dwelled upon. The more the population dwelled on them, the stronger the creature got. Suppressing those emotions through eating the Ofhorn flower would hopefully enable the people of the planet, Maralus, to lead a harmonious and peaceful existence with each other.

"You said you would like to talk to us about our little girl?" said Arka, the father of the child Martha hadn't protected to the best of her ability.

"I do," she laid her hands in her lap and began to speak, slowly and carefully. "Your daughter ran out in an attempt to harm those that had killed her father – hold on," she pointed to Arka, "you are her father, aren't you?"

"Yes," the man answered. He drew up his shirt, revealing a large gash in his side which appeared to be recent. "I was injured in the battle. Ally was with me at the time – she thought I was dying, I didn't dispute it, but I survived. She never got the chance to see that I still lived."

"Did you tell her to get to safety?" questioned Martha.

Arka shook his head, a proud look reflecting on his features. "I told her to seek revenge. Fight on my behalf. I have no son to pass on my legacy. Any sensible parent would do that."

She was completely astounded by the father's admission, and that he seemed quite proud that his daughter had died because he had instructed her to seek revenge. She was a near breadth away from shouting at him, but she restrained the anger that had built up inside her and instead took a controlled, deep breath.

"It is our tradition to teach our children to be like that – Ally was a model child. A grown up before her time. If Ally had run away then her death would have been meaningless, but she did the brave thing and died fighting for revenge. She channelled her anger exactly how we taught her to and we are proud to have reared a child like that: someone who did not shy from duty when it called for her."

"But she was a child! A little girl with her whole life ahead of her," explained Martha. She knew revulsion was etched on her face and she wondered how Kaza could condone any action that led to the end of a child's life for something so meaningless.

"Despite the fact that we are proud of her, the people who took her life should pay for what they did. They should know that killing a child is wrong. They deserve death themselves. We deserve to have revenge against them."

Martha shook her head, finding their logic hard to grasp. She understood that the people promoted hatred of their enemies to the degree that sending your child out to fight in your place was common, but the oddest thing was that they seemed to condemn their enemy's actions in killing a child. From her own reckoning she figured that it was alright for a child to murder someone, but it was not alright for the enemy to protect themselves against their attackers. In Arka and Myza's eyes, their daughter's killers should have let her kill them. They didn't seem to consider that they operated under the same rules. Yet Martha was certain the girl had been singled out because she had been an easier target. Despite all that, Martha Jones still felt incredibly guilty that she hadn't saved the little girl when she had had the chance.

"It is still my fault," she said. "My friend, the Doctor, told me to protect your daughter – take her back to you – since the villager's attackers were after my friend, but I failed to save your daughter. Ally died as a result of my actions. I tried my best to keep her out of harms way, but she struggled in an effort to fight, despite being pursued by the enemy. Ally did everything in her power to hurt those she hated in anyway she could."

"Ally acted according to what she was taught – to fight whenever she could, to follow instructions and to know that dying in battle was the most honourable death that could befall someone. Her killers must pay for taking her life." Their tone was monotone and the words sounded well practised, as if it was something the couple recited everyday.

Figuring that she wouldn't get anywhere, Martha decided to put her plan into action. Reaching for the bowl of Ofhorn flowers, she offered the two a snack. It had occurred to her that eating was probably not on their minds, however Arka and Myza surprised her by being quite inquisitive about the food she was offering.

"What is it?" asked Myza, a suspicious glance on her face as she eyes the flower.

"A healthy snack," said Martha, carefully putting a smile on her face. "It will help you."

"Where is it from?"

"It originates from my own home world – it is very nutritious," explained Martha. There was one thing that she hated doing and that was lying, however the Shaman had suggested this tactic as the best option she had. If she told them that the flower came from the forest, the couple's suspicions would be raised and they would refuse to touch it, in case the flower had been poisoned by the enemy. It was essential for the two to eat it, so that Martha could assess whether the flower had been the reason behind Kaza's retuning 'lost' emotions.

Attentively, Arka reached forward and plucked one of the Ofhorn flowers from the bowl and gingerly took a small bite. His wife watched him, apprehension evident on her face. He gave her a small nod, upon which Myza picked up another flower and took her own bite. They both munched slowly on the unknown substance. Martha watched the two's expressions chance as they continued to sample the flower. They were half-way through the bowl when Martha decided to attempt the next stage of her plan.

"How do you feel about Ally's murder now?" It was the only question that Martha could think of that would bring results. She ensured that her voice was soft and filled with sadness.

There was a moment's silence and then, "I feel anger, and yet sad…I've never felt like this before. The word 'sad' rolls off my tongue as if it is a common word but I have never used it in my life before."

"You are weeping," said Martha, leaning forward and gently patting her arm. She could see tears falling down both their cheeks. "You are crying for the daughter that you have lost and will never see again. Little Ally will never have the chance to grow up and make something of herself."

Arka wrapped an arm around Myza, pulling her close so that her head rested upon his shoulder. He was shaking uncontrollably, even as his tears dripped from his chin and onto his knee. There was utter sadness in his eyes. "Ally was such a beautiful little girl. She didn't deserve to die in battle…I was foolish and arrogant to think that she would be spared by the enemy due to her innocence. I love her…" the word sounded foreign on his tongue but he seemed to know the meaning of it clearly. "I loved her and I'll never get the chance to say it to her face, to explain how much she meant to me."

Myza continued, her voice shaking and the words coming out amongst the sobs. "I regret teaching her the value of hatred and how death in battle was honourable – but it isn't. Oh god," she grabbed Arka's hand, clenching it tightly, "I killed our daughter. I threw her life away as if she didn't mean anything to me."

Before Arka could speak once more, Martha decided it would be best if she intervened. "You didn't. Your daughter lived her life to the full, following the traditions that you imposed upon her. You are only just realising the mistake you have made and the guilt that you have will not go away unless you accept that it wasn't your fault."

"How was it not our fault?" blazed Arka, whose anger suddenly came out. He spat at Martha, not caring if his saliva hit her on the cheek. She made no move to wipe it away.

Keeping a stubborn looking on her face, Martha said: "Something was influencing you, controlling your feelings. It has cut off your ability to love, forgive, feel sadness – the only things you ever felt were anger, hatred and revenge."

"What has made us feel all these new things at once?"

"Me," whispered Martha. "The plant you just ate. It didn't originate from my home – it comes from the forest just outside of this tribe. The plant is called Ofhorn. Something was preventing you from feeling all the proper human emotions, and it was feeding off those that it let you keep. The more anger you felt, the stronger it gets. Your chief, Kaza, is not like you is he? He doesn't promote revenge, does he?"

Myza shook her tear-stained face.

"Kaza has been devouring this plant for years. It has unlocked the emotions that were forcibly held back while the darker emotions took control. Ofhorn is the cure, and the way to secure peace on your world."

"What made us like this in the first place? Why has it taken away part of our humanity?" demanded Arka, his eyes filled with sorrow and anger. "I want answers."

"There is a creature that feeds on the emotions of anger, hatred and revenge. The more people that feel these things on a regular basis, the stronger this creature gets; the less control you have over your own destiny. Break its power at its source, which is you lot and the influence will fade to a point so that it doesn't harm or threaten you. I know this must be difficult to take in, but it is the only way for your people to be free."

Myza's eyes darkened and Martha shivered as she realised immense hatred was building up inside the one-time mother. "This creature," she spat, "is responsible for polluting our daughter's mind so that it could survive. It must pay: plain and simple."

"No," said Martha, moving forward to grasp the woman's wrists as her hands made a fist. "Remember your hatred feeds it, makes it stronger. You cannot hate it; only neglect giving it what it desires most: your anger, hatred and fear."

"But that is impossible," whispered Arka. His shoulders were sagged in defeat.

"I will think of something," promised Martha. To add emphasis to her words, she said forcefully: "It is my duty and destiny to do this. It has been prophesised by the Shaman, and I will do my utmost best to succeed in anyway possible. Nothing is impossible."

* * *

_I've lost two of them…_

The admission heartened the Doctor and he briefly wondered why the creature had admitted that so freely. To unnerve him perhaps? The presence of the creature was still imbued to his mind, however he sensed that it was in shock and doubting the power it held over the people of the planet. He decided to take a risk and question his captor, knowing that he had to get information otherwise he would remain in the dark and not understand the significance of what was going on.

"Who have you lost?"

_People who are essential to my survival…the first ones are falling to the light; others will follow in their steps. It is due to your friend…your Martha Jones. _

He felt surprise register from the creature, as if he was only just working things out. The Doctor began to feel fear in the pit of his stomach.

_She is the prophesised one. The Shaman tricked me into believing it was you, when all along it was her. So that is what you were protecting in that insignificant little mind of yours. _

"I have no idea what you are talking about," shrugged the Doctor, trying his best to sound confused about what the creature was telling him.

_You knew, you had worked it out and you willingly gave yourself to me. How foolish of you – I have the leverage I need to control her. I can still survive. Martha Jones will step aside for my victory or she will watch as you die a slow and painful death. _

"That won't stop her," he growled in return.

_You carry on believing that, _the creature laughed softly in his mind. _I already know that she will do exactly as I say. What is that old saying? I will be killing two birds with one stone. Jones will not risk your death – she cares about you too much – as you do her. _

Without warning, the Doctor felt an immense pressure on his brain. Then he yelled an agonised screech as pain swept through every inch of his body. Then everything went black as the blindfold of oblivion descended upon him once more.

**To be continued...**

* * *

**Please let me know what you think!** The next chapter is practically complete, so it should be available come December 28th! 

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far!

Have a good Christmas, and if you are able to, enjoy watching Voyage of the Damned!

magic-doctor-writer


	10. Ten: The Southerners

**A/N)** Happy new year everyone! Here is another chapter to my little epic, as I've started calling it! There are only THREE more chapters left to this story. I hope to have this fic complete by the end of January. **  
**

Enjoy this chapter! Yet again, it is another long one!

* * *

**Ten**

Martha and the Shaman sat together, whispering in hushed tones. She had informed him of what she had done by giving the Ofhorn flower to the parents of the murdered girl to eat. She explained the effects it had on them and how it had freed their trapped emotions. The Prophet had suggested on crushing the Ofhorn flower into powder so that it could easily spread throughout the camp. This technique also meant that less of the flower was used.

There was, however, a problem that needed to be urgently addressed.

The rest of the villagers had noticed the different actions that Arka and Myza were taking over their daughter's demise. They had been seen regularly crying by their daughter's body and whispering the words: "I love you" to her, which was not something that had been heard of in over a thousand years. The feelings were new to the rest of the villagers and they were suspicious of why their attitude had changed from the accepted view of preaching revenge to crying their eyes out and muttering how much they missed and loved her.

The abrupt changes were down to Martha Jones and the people of the tribe knew this due to her status as an outsider. Any attempt she made to introduce the drink to them was met with rebuff because they didn't like the changes that had overcome Arka and Myza. The only people that would consider being in her company without flinching at her where Kaza, the Shaman, Arka and Myza.

Being shunned by most of the Northern Tribe prevented Martha from going off to do what she ached to do most, which was to go and find the Doctor. Fortunately, while the Northern Tribe were ignoring her, Martha still had an edge. The Southerner's, the tribe that had been responsible for the murder of the girl and the Doctor's capture, were victims of the darkness as well as the Northerners. All of them were being used without their knowledge.

"I think," the Shaman began, speaking slowly, considering what words he should say next, "that it would be a good idea if you travelled to the Southerner camp."

Martha, her bright brown eyes shining in the light, nodded, but then she frowned as her mind examined the Shaman's suggestion. "Hold on, the Southerners are the ones who kidnapped the Doctor. If I went there, it would be like handing myself over to the enemy on a plate!"

The Shaman shook his head. She figured that he had been expecting her answer as he spoke immediately after she had finishing speaking. "The darkness enlisted the aid of the Southerners to distract the warriors of Kaza's tribe so that they would be able to take the Doctor unnoticed," he explained, his voice soft and serene. "I have thought long and hard about this and, as you know, I have briefly connected to the Doctor's mind, and I attempted to again to see if I could sense where he was. Neither he nor his captors are in the direction of the Southerner camp. The darkness is preoccupied with breaking your friend. You have an advantage that you must take, otherwise if you don't, you will surely fail in your task."

Martha knew the Shaman was just giving her the best advice, but it stung to be told that if she didn't act and go to the enemy camp then all her efforts would, basically be, for nothing. "There isn't any other way?"

The Shaman shook his head, sadness reflected in his eyes. "No. Kaza's people are too suspicious of you now since the changes of Arka and Myza. They do not like seeing them. The Southerners do not know about you or of the contents of the prophecy."

Leaning back Martha placed her hands on the ground, gnawing upon her bottom lip as she considered her next course of action. It was inevitable that she would have to go talk to the Southerners, but she couldn't see the point of it. "Let me see if I've got this correct. Kaza's people are reluctant to talk or even be seen in the company of me because of what I've supposedly done to Arka and Myza. I've just freed them, but the rest of the people see that as unnatural. The creature is preventing the remainder of the population from gaining access to their 'lost' emotions, but the Ofhorn flower breaks down that particular barrier. The Southerners have no idea that is what I have been doing and I have an advantage with them that I have lost with Kaza's people."

"That is correct," the old sage said, smiling gently. "The Southerners, under the rule of Chief Harr, have no idea of the existence of the Ofhorn flower; nor would they know what you have done to gain the mistrust of their enemies."

Martha frowned, considering how she could gain the trust the Southerners without raising their suspicions. Finally she looked at the Shaman, appealing for his help. "What do you think?"

"I would suggest presenting yourself as a trader from another world. Maralus does get visited by other species but only on very rare occasions. The people do know that life exists out there and they are always intrigued to try new or see things that have originated from another world."

Martha nodded, understanding what the Shaman was suggesting, but she didn't like it one bit. "I've got to lie to gain their trust. I would be effectively claiming that the Ofhorn flower comes from off world, when in fact it doesn't. They might know that."

"Ah," the Shaman held up his right hand, a glint in his eyes. He had already thought this through. "But if you give them the Ofhorn flower as a drink, mash it up and liquidize it, they wouldn't realise that it was the same thing. That is your advantage because the cure can be administered in many ways."

"But I would still be lying," pressed Martha, "and I dislike doing that. It's not right to keep the truth from people. It's only in situations when your life is in danger that lying is acceptable."

"And your life isn't in danger?" the Shaman probed, eyebrows rising.

Martha bit her lip. "I guess it is, but it still feels deceitful."

"I can understand that," said the Shaman, gently, as he laid a bony hand on her knee. "It is essential that you get the Southerners on your side as that would mean that the Northerners would have no one to fight or feel anger against. The Southerners, plus yourself, Kaza, Myza and Arka would be able to convince the rest of this tribe that it was for the better if they did what you say. By saving the Southerners first, you are effectively weakening the darkness…" he was cut of as Martha finished his sentence.

"Therefore the pressure that is constant on their minds would be less effective upon them so they would be more willing to listen to me. The weaker the creature is, the less chance it has of preventing the people from accessing their emotions, right?"

"Exactly," the Shaman nodded enthusiastically. "This is just guesswork here, but nothing can take away someone's emotions – suppress them yes – which is what the creature has most likely done. The Ofhorn flower breaks through the block that the creature is using on the people, and when that happens they experience so much at once, the darkness becomes weaker and cannot regain control, therefore effectively freeing the population from its grasp."

"And the only way for it to become stronger again would be for the people to hate again, but the torrent of emotions breaking through would damage or destroy the creature enough so that it is no longer a threat to this planet!"

"Yes!" shouted the Shaman. "There is one problem and I know you won't like it."

"What's that?" she asked, wondering what he had spotted that she hadn't.

"The two people who work with the creature would serve as its life-force if all the people were saved. Those two people would be unredeemable as the creature's grasp on them would be too strong and you wouldn't be able to convince them to take Ofhorn anyway."

"What must I do?" said Martha, but even as she said she felt a weight settle in her stomach and she realised instantly what the Shaman was asking of her. "I would have to kill them so that the darkness is gone forever. You are asking me to become a murderer."

"No," he shook his head. "I wouldn't ask you to kill and I cannot see you doing anything like that, however you must ensure that they die or the creature will rise again. It cannot survive without the hate of others. Keeping its most loyal followers alive would enable it to survive, albeit weakly. Eventually it would gain control once more."

"But if the people want vengeance on this creature," said Martha, "wouldn't they be giving it what it wants; the emotions that it feeds upon?"

"Not quite," discussed the Shaman. "If the Northerners and Southerners came together for vengeance and actively killed the two that aid it, then their souls would be free. They would have exacted revenge, but once they had killed those two people they would feel as if justice had been done."

"The creature's destruction is inevitable then," finished Martha. "I just have to convince the Southerners to take Ofhorn and then orchestrate the deaths of two people with the help of both tribes. It doesn't sound too difficult."

But she knew deep down that it was the toughest task she had ever faced, and she wondered if she would be able to succeed and bring about the creature's destruction. She hoped that the Doctor was alright and that they would see each other again. If she failed in her task, then the chances of that reunion would be down to zero.

She just hoped that it wouldn't be down to her to murder in cold blood. Martha Jones already knew that she'd be unable to take someone's life away. If it came to it, she wouldn't know what to do. Sighing, she thrust those thoughts out of her mind and concentrated on listening to the Shaman's words as he told her exactly how she should disguise herself and what she should say to the Southerners when she entered their camp, posing as a trader.

* * *

"Where is she?" asked Arrein as he peered round the camp that the Northerner's lived in. He and his sister were once again hidden by their master, so they were able to move more freely without fear of discovery. They had been tasked with finding and bringing Martha Jones back with them so that it would help their master break the Doctor. Unfortunately there wasn't any sign of her – it was as if she had disappeared into thin air. 

Aziel growled. "It appears she has left the village. I wonder where she has gone." She looked down, grounding her heels into the earth. "Master will not be best pleased. We need her."

"Unfortunately we must note this mission as a failure. There is no way we can track Martha Jones. We must limp back to our master in disgrace and hope that he doesn't take his anger out on us," said Arrein as he laid a hand upon his sister's shoulder.

Aziel giggled as they made their way though the village and back towards the mountain. "Besides, our master has someone else he can take his anger out on."

* * *

He didn't know what was happening, apart from the fact that he realised his throat was raw and cracked from the amount of screaming he had been doing since the creature had been attacking his mind. He felt cold and slightly disorientated as his eyes blurred. 

_Your friend is not where she is supposed to be, _the voice muttered in his head, as tingles of pain rushed through his body. He bit his lip trying not to aggravate his sore throat more by screaming.

_Where is she? _The creature demanded of him.

The Doctor smiled mirthlessly. "How am I supposed to know? I've been trapped in here!" he croaked. "You could probably locate Martha anyway!" That was definitely the worst thing he could say – putting ideas in to the creature's head was no the most sensible thought he had ever had.

_I can lure her here. My followers cannot find her in the Northerners camp which means that she is elsewhere, working against me, trying to find my weakness. But I have found hers: you. I can reach into her mind and plant images that I desire her to see._

"Leave her alone!" the Doctor yelled, ignoring the pain that was threatening to consume him. He yanked on the ropes binding him, using all the strength he could muster to loosen the rope and to his utter astonishment it broke, releasing his hands from their bonds. He could escape, break free from his imprisonment.

Even as he considered this option the creature screeched in fury. It wasn't in his mind but he could hear it – hidden deep in the cavern that he had sat in. He rubbed his wrists trying to get the circulation going again, as his numbed fingers slowly began to feel once more. Scrambling to his feet he made a run towards the light that he could see in the distance, but then immense pain spread up his entire body sending him sprawling. His hands clutched at his head and he yelled in abject agony.

He had to get away – he had a chance – but the pain was too much. The pressure was building on his brain. Fighting the urge just to surrender to the darkness, the Doctor launched himself to his feet, running as fast as he could, his eyes barely open, hands still clutched at the side of his head. The pain got worse and he fell to his knees, eyes shut, fingers scrabbling at the cave wall, as he fell to his back on the floor.

Then it abruptly stopped – the agony just disappeared within the blink of an eye.

The Doctor opened his eyes to find Aziel and Arrein staring down at him. "Oh…"

"Trying to escape are we?" Arrein kicked him in the stomach and the Doctor doubled over.

He didn't say anything, just stared intently at his captors.

"It's a pity we couldn't locate Martha Jones. I wonder where she has gone," mused Aziel, stroking her chin. "She will, of course, eventually do everything we say otherwise she will watch you die. I am certain you wouldn't want that now, would we?"

"She will carry on whether you kill me or not. You are just waiting for the inevitable," whispered the Doctor.

Arrein glanced at his sister, but didn't say a word.

Then the creature spoke so that they could all here what was being said.

_I know where she is. I have located her. _

The Doctor's hearts stopped once more and he swallowed, fearful for Martha.

"Where is she?" Aziel asked, her voice portraying eagerness.

The Doctor felt disgusted. They wanted to hurt her, his Martha. He knew that he didn't have a chance of escaping now. Even if he did attempt it, it would be pointless. The creature could continue to attack his mind whenever he was close to the mountain. He would have to wait it out and hope that Martha would be able to avoid her pursuers.

_She is in the Southerner camp. _

"She's with our tribe?" shouted Aziel, her voice shrill with hate. "How did she get there?"

"She walked," the Doctor said, feeling his voice with sarcasm. His defiance only gave him a splitting headache as a booted foot connected with his head.

"Shut up."

He did so, not wanting to annoy them any further then they already were. He heard the creature speak again, but decided to keep quiet, to observe.

_She has found the cure. She is taking away my resources to survive. I need hate, anger and revenge to survive and they are being taken from me! You must stop her! _

Arrein nodded and turned away.

_Wait! _

"Yes master?" Aziel asked, clearly distressed by the news they had just received about their masters welfare.

_Take him with you. You will need leverage to ensure she complies with what I desire. __If she doesn't to what I demand, then you kill him, slowly. Those she has saved will protect her; she will be untouchable. The Doctor's death will be the only way of controlling her. Understand? _

"We do," bowed Arrein, moving toward the Doctor. From his pocket he pulled out a little bottle. He unscrewed it and forced the liquid down the Time Lord's throat. He tried to spit it out but couldn't as his airways were cut off. The vile liquid spread through his system. He began to feel dizzy and light-headed and then he forgot everything as unconsciousness claimed him.

* * *

She had reached the Southerner camp within due course. The day was drawing to a close and the sun that had been shining down upon her was slowly setting in the distance. Martha Jones carried a back-pack which was filled with the antidote in liquid form (which the Shaman had kindly made before she had departed towards the Southerner camp), as well as several gifts. She wore black trousers, with a gold belt (upon which a water bottle was attached), and a shirt, with the sleeves rolled up. Her hair was tied in a high pony-tail. According to Kaza, Martha certainly looked from off-world, but she had assumed she had looked like that in her other attire when she and the Doctor had arrived. 

However there was still the possibility of some of the Southerners recognising her from the attack and realising she was 'in cohorts' with their enemy, which wouldn't help the situation one bit. The disguise was necessary in case someone did recognise her. Having her hair tied back did make her look different, and she had washed the make-up she had applied earlier, off. The difference was noticeable and would hopefully enable her to keep her true identity secret until the right time.

The trek round the mountain had taken three hours, however due to all the running she had done since meeting the Doctor, the long walk hadn't been as exhausting as she had previously thought it would be.

She stopped in front of the two sentries that were standing guard and smiled widely. "Hello!" she said brightly, making sure her voice was filled with confidence. "I've travelled far and wide in my search of this planet and have come here to spread my gifts of the outside world to you!"

The guards exchanged a glance with each other, nodded and then escorted her into the village, taking her to the centre where a bonfire was being made. It seemed to her that the Southerners were cutting down the remaining forest, despite what Kaza had said about the forest being strictly off limits to only those that could be trusted. The Southerners were destroying the forest that had been proclaimed a sacred place on Maralus. It was then that Martha began to feel the first stabs of nervousness as she prayed that none of the Southerners had stumbled across the Ofhorn flower.

They told her to wait in front of a hut, while they went inside and then, after a few minutes, came back out where they announced her blessed arrival to their Chief, whose name she found out was Aiden CoHarr. All around her song and dance erupted from the villagers, as they began to circle the bonfire, moving their limbs in time with the drumbeats that others had started up. To Martha's dismay and horror the songs and dance conveyed the actions of violence and revenge and how constructing their lives on those two things made the life they led more meaningful. She felt disgusted by their actions, however she had opportunity to change their way of life forever by distributing the cure. The Chief emerged from his hut, dressed in long yellow robes that, if the sun had not been setting, would be glittering in its golden rays.

Respectively, Martha bowed.

"You may rise, my child."

She did so, ignoring the fact that he addressed her as 'my child'.

"Come," he beckoned.

She followed him into the hut and stopped just inside the entrance as her eyes swept across the various decorations that the Southerner Chief had collected. They were, however, made of bones. Inanimate objects had been carved from the bones of corpses.

"You come from the stars."

It was statement, not a question, but she decided to answer. "I do. I have come far and wide searching for people to see and get to know about. I am proud to have found you." She put as much enthusiasm into her voice as she could and hoped that her facial expressions showed her happiness and eagerness to be here.

The Chief scrutinised her, studying her up and down before he spoke. "It is curious that an off-worlder on this world visits me when we didn't see your ship come in."

"No," Martha shook her head. "You didn't. It is over thirty miles away, so you wouldn't have seen it from above."

"Oh." Chief CoHarr stroked his moustache then threaded his fingers down into his beard. "I didn't think of that."

"That's alright," grinned Martha, smiling widely. "I am interested in learning more about your people and establishing whether we originate from the same type of molecules, as we do look, in principle, the same. The only difference in our physical aspects that I can see is that I require an extra finger." She held out her hand showing it to CoHarr, who's eyes widened in amazement. He took hold of Martha's hand, examining it and running his own hands over hers, comparing their textures, shape and size.

"You have lovely hands," commented CoHarr.

"Thank you." She felt flattered by his efforts to maker her feel welcome and at ease, despite his initial reservations of her.

He offered her a chair to sit on, that had been carved from wood, once again confirming her suspicions that the Southerners were disregarding the unwritten rule not to destroy the forest that had been preserved for so many years. She sat down placing the back-pack she had on the floor beside her. Once again she expressed her gratitude for his hospitality.

"You would like to know about our people?" he asked, leaning forward, a curious expression present on his face.

"I would," agreed Martha. "What I have seen so far of his word is fascinating – strange and different from any other world that I have explored so far. Excuse me for saying this but you lead a primitive existence and it intrigues me as to how you know about aliens and how you lead your life, despite knowing there is something better out there. I feel excited at the prospect of learning new things about people like myself, but do not have the same life I lead and cannot because they have yet to discover the devices to which they can succeed further in the universe."

"I have not had that feeling before – of feeling 'excited'." CoHarr said sadly. He had given the answer Martha had been hoping for. He had picked up on the missing feeling that she had used in her explanation. She had waffled, yes, but it was necessary to see if he picked up on her usage of words.

The Chief began to explain the customs of his people and Martha found that his tribe operated under the same basic principles that Kaza's did. He briefly touched upon the war that raged between his tribe and the 'others', but he proclaimed that the war would not bother or interfere with Martha's exploration of the planet. Unfortunately, although he didn't know it yet, Martha was already involved, and her true purpose would be revealed once the cure had been distributed around the Southerner Camp.

She listened politely, gasping in all the right places and asking interesting questions that kept the Chief talking for hours. Night had fallen and she estimated that it was around midnight when he finally finished elaborating about his home, his people and their customs.

CoHarr looked at her expectantly. "You mentioned that you had gifts to share?"

"I do," nodded Martha.

Bending down beside the bag, Martha opened it and took out the flask that contained the antidote. The flask had come from the TARDIS, which she had briefly gone back to before departing on her mission. There she had stumbled across a box entitled 'Lost Property from Earth'. Inside she had found many different objects and antiques cluttered away and she had decided that giving some of these to the Southerners may help them consider her a friend. She hoped the Doctor didn't mind her using this stuff, but if it saved his life then it would be worth it.

"I bring gifts my home world of Earth. They range from priceless collectibles to expensive attire," she said, picking up the first of the gifts she had thought suitable to present to the Chief.

"What is it?" he asked as she showed him a bracelet that was decorated in small, glowing jewels. She held it up so that CoHarr could examine it fully and then passed it to him to touch. She watched with fascination as he tried to slip the bracelet onto his wrist, which he finally succeeded in doing when he located the catch on the underside of the jewellery.

"This is a bracelet that is given to a woman as a gift in recognition of how important they are to the giver. You, as the receiver of this gift, can present the bracelet to one you care about, telling them that they mean so much to you that everything else is tiny compared to her. The bracelet demonstrates exactly what a lover means to someone."

She was making it all up, but she had to improvise and convince the Chief to accept the most important gift she had to offer – namely the cure.

"Do you have anyone special that you care deeply about?" she asked, her thoughts momentarily on the Doctor.

He shook his head, lowering his head. "No, I don't. Duties as Chief as my people prevent such attachments from happening."

"Oh," she put on a sad face showing her sympathies for something he had never had. "I'm sorry."

"No matter – this is a wonderful gift to receive," CoHarr indicated the bracelet, his eyes sparkling at the delight he had of such a gift. "What others do you have?"

Martha proceeded through the gifts she had brought with her, presenting each one with information that would hopefully intrigue CoHarr enough to at least try the Ofhorn flower.

The gifts she had found ranged from jewellery to puzzle boxes to cups and saucers to an intricate piece of art that had been painted by someone she did not recognise. It was quite small, but showed a range of colours. Finally Martha sat back, picking up the flask of the cure, opening it expectantly, watching the Chief as he leaned back and awaited the next and final gift she had brought with her.

"My last gift is a sample of an exotic drink that is native to my home planet. I give this to you and your people so that you may experience a taste like no other. Would you like to try some?"

"I would," said CoHarr.

Martha smiled, pleased at the development. "May I borrow the cup I gave you to pour some of the liquid in?"

"Here." The Chief passed her one of the three cups she had presented him with as a gift.

She took it gratefully and poured some of the antidote into the cup, filling it to its brim, before passing it back to CoHarr so that he could taste it.

Taking the delicate blue cup in his hands CoHarr sipped at the liquid, licking his lips as he tasted the sweetness of the cure. His eyes lighted up in pleasure at this new taste. Martha waited patiently, hands in her lap, watching as CoHarr drunk the whole cup dry.

"This is nice," he said, obviously thrilled at the new taste that Martha had given him the chance to discover.

"How do you feel?" asked Martha, holding her breath as she waited for the answer she hoped that he would give. She had wondered why the Ofhorn flower had worked so quickly upon Arka and Myza and she supposed that it was some sort of poison that attacked the creature's grip on their minds, therefore making it retreat long enough for the people of Maralus to regain control of all their emotions. She also supposed that the Ofhorn flower temporarily pushed back the anger, revenge and hatred emotions that had been so prominent, while the other emotions that had been suppressed surged forth.

The Chief looked thoughtful as he considered her question. "Different."

"Good different or bad different?" enquired Martha.

"Good, I think. I have a strange feeling that has suddenly arose in me, like it has been blocked by something and that block has gone like that….I don't feel overwhelming anger like I did before, hatred for the other tribe has dissipated. I don't even know why we were fighting…" he swallowed, and Martha could see the fear in his eyes as his mind fought to understand the strange situation he had found himself in. "I feel sad, whatever that means…but it feels right to be like that…I could cry…Dali…my darling Dali…she's gone!"

There were tears in his eyes and he hastily wiped them away as an overwhelming surge of grief threatened to consume him.

Martha knew he had said that his duties as Chief had prevented from him having attachments, but he must have had a family, because, whoever this Dali was, she sounded as if she was someone important to CoHarr, someone who he had loved and then lost. He had blocked her out, enabling him to forget her memory, but that had come rushing back as the Ofhorn flower worked its magic.

"What have you done to me?" he bellowed; worry reflecting in his eyes and voice.

Martha swallowed, filled with sorrow as she considered what she had done to him. The cure had changed him, but it had happened so suddenly that there was no way she could hide her true purpose from him anymore. "I've saved you from the darkness that has consumed your lives for so many years."

**To be continued...**

** Please let me know what you think! Next chapter should be up shortly. **

**Until next time, **

**magic-doctor-writer **


	11. Eleven: Facing the Darkness

**Thank you for all the reviews so far! This is the penultimate chapter.**** Enjoy!  
**

* * *

**Eleven**

"What darkness is this?"

Despite feeling betrayed and angry at Martha for deceiving him, CoHarr felt curious as to what this 'darkness' was. The storm of emotions that was rushing through his body was enough for him to give the girl another chance, to understand her motive before issuing out a cruel punishment. Even as he considered that, CoHarr realised that he wouldn't be able to harm her. It didn't feel right, whereas before he hadn't had any issue over hurting others for simple deceptions. He swallowed, realising that he felt different and better then he had ever felt before in his entire life. And it was because of her.

Martha decided to tell him the truth – he had requested it, so she would. She began speaking in great detail about the darkness; about Maralus being held in the clutches of a creature; and how the war had been orchestrated by it so that it could continue to feed upon the hatred, anger and revenge emotions to survive. She also mentioned how it had managed to suppress the positive emotions, the ones that were lethal to it, to prevent CoHarr's people and enemies from defeating it. She spoke about her relationship with Kaza and mentioned about how the prophecy related to her. She pressed on the words destiny, implying that this would have come about at some point, thereby destroying the creature's control, effectively freeing the population from its grasp. Martha ensured she didn't mention the Doctor, just in case.

Though he had felt initial anger, CoHarr was understanding and intrigued by this creature and what it had achieved. He felt used and humiliated that the creature had used him for his own purposes and he felt that her need for deception had been reasonable. He wanted to help her achieve her mission, help free his people from the captivity the creature had kept them in, without their consent. He told her that he would hold a meeting with his tribe and that he would deceive them into taking the drink. He was slightly surprised to discover that Martha Jones opposed this course of action but allowed him to make his own mind up, considering that he hadn't consented to being enslaved by the creature before it had effectively taken control. Martha did, however, understand his reasons for suggesting to such a move.

Deceit would be the only way to convince people to take the cure she had brought with her. Virtually they had no freewill and CoHarr felt that the creature's influence on their minds would prevent them from making their own choices, especially if it knew what the woman was doing. The creature would do everything in its power to ensure that Martha Jones didn't succeed – it was a battle for survival – and only the strongest could win. CoHarr didn't believe his people had the inner strength to fight off an alien entity. Lying to them would ensure that didn't happen.

Martha knew her time was running out and she still had to get the Northerners to drink the cure. All she could do was hope that the Southerners willingness to follow their Chief's decisions would enable them to take the Ofhorn cure. If they noticed he was acting differently to what they were used to, her plan would be ruined. Her work would become harder and the prophecy more difficult to achieve.

CoHarr stood from where he sat facing Martha and beckoned her to follow him. He called his people to a meeting and proceeded to explain who Martha was and about the gifts he had received and how some of them would help them to destroy their remaining enemies. He preyed upon his people's weakness by deceiving them into thinking that they had the opportunity to rid their lives of the Northerners.

Throughout his speech Martha learnt that their greatest desire was to kill every single existing Northerner and it sickened her. She knew that the only way for CoHarr to gain an advantage was to pry upon their greatest weakness. By giving them a reason to think they could win the war, CoHarr was effectively setting his people up for a fall. They would automatically drink the cure assuming it would aid them to rid themselves of the Northerners.

But what CoHarr was doing was deceitful and it made Martha feel uneasy. It had felt wrong to her by lying to CoHarr in order to get him to take the cure, but telling him the truth probably wouldn't have worked. The way the Northerners had reacted to Arka and Myza's transformations had made it impossible for her to even mention the truth. It occurred to her then that it was quite possible that the Southerners might not be so terrified at the change or of the truth. The Northerners hadn't even let Martha explain herself – just shunned her – however; who was to say that the Southerners would employ the same tactic?

It was in that moment that Martha realised that she could not sanction CoHarr to lie to his people. The Doctor wouldn't trick people – he would give them the opportunity to make the decision themselves. It should be their choice whether they should change their lives for the better, and they deserved that chance to act upon their own initiative.

Martha swallowed and then shouted out: "Chief CoHarr! I can't let you do this! It's wrong! Your people deserve to know the truth. I have a friend who is in terrible danger and if he was here, in my place, he wouldn't deceive people. He would tell me and you that individuals deserve their own choices in life. I know I didn't give you one and I hated doing it, but I can't stand here and let you make this choice for them. Life is about choices, deciding what you _want_to do. You are taking away that fundamental choice – they deserve better."

The Southerners were looking at her curiously, wondering what an earth she was talking about. Idle chatter began to spread throughout the crowd and Martha began to worry that they would turn against her, neglecting to listen to the truth. She had just admitted to having deceived their Chief into doing something he probably wouldn't have wanted to do willingly.

CoHarr stared at her, then nodded, smiling gently and then stepped back, indicating for Martha to take his place. She felt a little fear settle in the pit of her stomach. Everything was riding on it – if the truth didn't work then she had no idea what she would do. Her heart had been telling her all along it was dishonourable to lie to people. Life was about choice, and the Southerners deserved the chance to pick their own path. With CoHarr she hadn't had any choice but to lie.

Taking a deep breath Martha began to talk, repeating what she had learnt about the creature and its hold on the planet. She spoke of the darkness taking away their humanity by blocking out the emotions that made people human, preventing them from leading full lives.

"I have come here to help you – to save you, but in the end it is your ultimate choice whether you wish to change the world for the better. I cannot make that decision for you." Martha's eyes scanned the crowd of listeners, seeking for the anger that she was expecting from them, but to her utter surprise each and every Southerner were conversing in low tones, glancing every now and again at her. They continued to whisper amongst themselves and she noticed thoughtfulness reflecting in their expressions as they considered what she had said. From what she could tell they were being open-minded, could this tactic of telling the truth work? If she had done this to Arka and Myza would they have taken the cure?

It was one of the things she was beginning to regret to have done. She had turned the Northerners against her and they refused to listen to reason. Without their co-operation her mission would be a failure. Martha could only hope that they would see the benefits of what she had done, but she had to wonder how on earth she was going to convince them that their lives were being controlled?

Martha waited patiently beside CoHarr, her heart beating fast in her chest. Her eyes moved over the crowd, watching and analysing their expressions. She noticed a large proportion of the group were huddled around a single man, with sandy blond hair, sticking up at the back, just like the Doctor's sometimes was.

About ten minutes later the sandy-blonde haired man turned away from the gathering crowd after getting a huge cheer from them and turned to Martha, walking towards her. He stood in front of the crowd and proceeded to speak in a high, commanding tone. His sparkling blue eyes focused upon the large group in front of him, and his voice rang with power and persuasion.

"I think I speak for everyone here when I say that change is good for the soul!

A resounding cheer erupted from the crowd.

"Talk about persuasive," muttered Martha in a low tone so that only CoHarr could hear her.

"He always has been. I am grooming him to take my place when I depart from this world."

"Good choice," she remarked.

"I have always felt deep down that there was something wrong, something missing in our lives. We have always lived for war, to destroy out enemies, but what have they done to us? It was over a thousand years ago that this war started, before any of us were born. The story of the war has been twisted to ensure that we continue on fighting, but what if Martha Jones is right? What if we are fighting purely for the sake of a creature that wants to survive? That would make us slaves to its will and that is not the Southerner way. We are meant to be free, free to make our own decisions and live our lives. One of the major consequences of this war is that we have lost the beauty of our planet, of our forest. The gods gave us the responsibility to look after it, to protect it and what are we doing? Cutting it down as a resource; ignoring the ancient codes of conduct that our ancestors swore to abide to and what we promised to uphold when we were old enough to speak those ancient words. This war has overshadowed our responsibilities to Maralus." His voice carried over the crowd; it was filled with conviction. "I want change! What about everybody else?"

* * *

Nearly an hour later, Martha had handed out the cure to the Southerners who had drunk it willingly. It had amazed her, through the impressive speech that the bond-haired man had made, that the people had taken a joint risk and decided to change the structure of their lives and how they lived it. She had expected the creature to put pressure upon their minds, but she supposed it had more important things to do – _like breaking the Doctor, _she thought – and didn't consider her a threat. Another reason, she supposed, was that the creature had become complacent and didn't believe it needed to keep tabs upon the people that were its energy source, and therefore the people already had some degree of free-will. 

She just hoped that this would all be over soon and that she would soon be reunited with the Doctor. She hated that he was a prisoner and being held against his will, unable to help in his own unique way. Her quest was gradually coming to an end. Barring any incidents, this would soon be over. Once she had achieved her goal, Martha intended to go and find the Doctor. Leaving him any longer then she had to was definitely not an option. As soon as the opportunity arose she was going to go and find him. She couldn't lose him.

Especially not after Farringham when the Doctor had nearly been lost forever.

Martha studied each face of the people she had administered the cure to, taking in their expressions and noting down the range of emotions that was flooding across their faces. Some were crying; some looked uncomfortable; others looked perfectly fine. Though anger, hate and revenge were strong emotions, the combination of so many less strong emotions running through their souls was enough to temporarily ensure that the ones that the creature fed upon were made redundant. By the time the creature attempted to take back what he considered its property, the people would be able to fight back against the will it had imposed upon them before. She needed their aid in convincing the Northerners to take the same route as them, to change their lives for the better.

"Martha?"

She turned to look at the speaker. A young woman with red hair to the waist, her eyes brimming with tears and her cheeks showing recent tear stains stood to the side of her. She felt sorry for the young woman, having abruptly come barging in and changing their lives on a whim. Sudden emotion enveloped her and Martha pulled the woman into a hug, noting the sudden hitch of breath as she experienced something new. The woman hastily wiped her tears away when they parted.

"I'm sorry," Martha couldn't help admitting, "for changing you."

"Red was right you know. I think all of us had doubts over the way we lived our lives and how sometimes, I think, we contemplated if we were truly whole. We were charged with protecting our world and now it is a ruined mess – we need to band together to correct this. We had to change in order to appease our Gods. I think…"

"Yes?" probed Martha, enticing the woman to continue.

"That if you mention the Gods, the Northerners may come round to realising that they have not lived up the ancient codes of our people. Displeasing our heathen Gods is not something that we wished to do. We neglected them due to a powerful force beyond our control. I thought you might be interested to know that."

Martha nodded, tucking away the useful bit of information that the woman had presented her with. "Thank you."

"Will you be leaving soon?" the woman asked, looking down at her feet, not wanting to keep eye contact with Martha.

"I will be, yes," replied Martha, pulling her fringe away from her face. "I need to get back. I fear that time is running out for me." Inwardly she added, _and for the Doctor too. _

* * *

She left the Southerner Camp one hundred and twenty minutes later with a small group of people accompanying her back to the Northerner camp, determined to help her convince them that their lives were worth changing. CoHarr accompanied them, intent on making peace with the tribe that had been his enemies for so long. Her plan upon reaching Kaza's camp was to call for parley, so that negotiations among the two warring tribes could begin without fear of it breaking into an all scale fight. 

It was night time as they made their way down the path of the mountain, the moon's rays lighting their way. Martha stumbled but caught herself before she fell. Instead of taking the route Martha had trodden by bypassing the mountain to get to the Southerner Camp, she and CoHarr had decided to take the quicker path, which was to go over the mountain and past the Shaman's cave and descend towards the Northerner camp. The only problem with this route was that it put the cured Southerners and Martha, herself, right in the range of the creature. She didn't know whether it had any interest in her, but she figured that if it hadn't already noticed the energy it lived upon fading, it soon would.

_I have noticed you Miss Jones. _

Martha's breath caught in her throat as she sensed an invading presence in her mind. In her mind's eye she could visualise what the creature looked like; a tall imposing figure in black, inhuman eyes staring from a blank, cold and white face. It was in the shape of a human, but twisted and turned so much that in her own eyes could be anything but human. She swallowed, still walking along the path, trying not to think about the darkness that was rattling through her thoughts. She was not telepathic; the creature shouldn't be able to reach into her mind, but it had and it scared and worried her. Yet she kept her cool, waiting for onslaught she was sure was coming.

But nothing came, and she began to feel a little wary as the darkness seemed to settle in her mind. "Get out," she said, the words coming out in a venomous whisper.

_With just a single thought I can sentence your Doctor to death…_

Martha's breathing hitched and her heart pumped faster. "No…" the word came through dried lips.

_I can and I will…unless you co-operate. _

She didn't even need to think, the word came out automatically. "No."

_Then you leave me no choice…_

"Killing the Doctor won't stop me, only make me more determined to ensure you are destroyed," said Martha, ignoring the fear that was gathering in the pit of her stomach. She had to remain strong otherwise she would fail and that was not something she could afford.

_Resisting me is not in your best interests, _the creature spoke.

Martha grimaced. "It's not in your best interests to hinder me either." It was a bold statement and one that was guaranteed to anger the creature. Her continued defiance would only make the creature more determined to hurt her; more determined to carry out his threat of killing the Doctor.

_Then you stubbornness has killed your friend. _

In her minds eye the creature projected an image of a man – the Doctor, she recognised – kneeling before a man and a woman, his hands bound behind him. His eyes were covered with a black cloth. Martha found herself _physically_standing in the cavern, watching as the woman stepped forward, grabbed the Doctor's head and yanked back on it, exposing his neck. She watched as a dagger was placed against his throat and then slid across the skin. Droplets of blood began to appear and drip down the side of his throat…

"It's not real," hissed Martha. She knew that she was seeing things; it was fake, a complete fabrication of the creature's imagination, designed to scare her and make sure she obeyed its command, but she wasn't falling for that trick. She didn't even let herself think that it could be real, for she knew instinctively that the Doctor was still alive and unharmed.

The creature did not reply, instead it vanished from her mind.

A hand tapped her on her shoulder and she turned to see CoHarr looking at her. "Are you okay?" He had noticed something was wrong then.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied.

But she wasn't 'fine'. The Doctor's life was in her hands. If she didn't play her cards right, then he would die.

"CoHarr, we need to hurry. We're running out of time." She didn't want to alert him to any suspicious activity, but it was essential they got to the Northerner camp quicker.

The Chief nodded, instructing his people to move faster as they closed in upon the camp that had once held their enemies.

_The end is coming, _she thought, _I won't let you die, Doctor. I promise you that. _

* * *

_It's just you two left…I am weak fading before you. _

Aziel stopped in her tracks; the voice of her master reverberating through her mind. "What's wrong? Has that infidel taken more?"

_Everyone has deserted me…the Northerners are fading, but it isn't through the girl…_

"Someone else then?" asked Arrein, his voice wary of this undiscovered threat.

_No. It is not her. Someone else that I do not know of has converted them…_the creature let out a scream of fury. _I am failing, fading from existence….without the emotions I live upon I will die. I will perish into the void of nothingness._

"Isn't there anything we can do?" Aziel asked as she paced round the cave, glancing every now and again at their prisoner who lay unmoving on the floor, arms bound tightly behind his back.

_I have tried projecting images of his death to Martha Jones, but it failed to dissuade her from her current course. __She is not easily persuaded. _

"Then we must kill him for real then," suggested Arrein. "The only way she will know you mean business is if his death is a reality and not faked. Martha Jones is not like the other prophesised ones. They were weak and easily believed such fabrications, yet Miss Jones seems to be more in control and know when things cannot be real. My lord, may I recommend the best course of action?"

_You have my permission to speak. _

"Kill the Doctor in front of her for real. If she continues to deny you what is rightly yours then she can die. Allow me to tell her that if she steps aside then you will let her leave with her friend's body. Perhaps, I may be so bold to suggest, that you bargain with his life. You release the Doctor if she leaves this planet and not return?"

_I could, but her continued defiance must be punished. There is no way out for her friend. He will die in front of her, as you have suggested, but I will give her a chance to leave. If she refuses, you may take her as your own. _

"Thank you my lord," bowed Arrein, pleased that one of his ideas had been widely accepted by the master he served. Soon the world would be theirs once more.

* * *

It was quite a surprise for Martha Jones when she and the Southerners arrived at the Northerners camp to great applause. It was not something she had expected and was thoroughly surprised when they came out of their camp willingly to greet her and her companions. Surprised at their sudden turn of accepting her, Martha cocked her head as Kaza strode forward, a joyous grin on his face. 

"What have you done?" she asked, confused by the sudden change of the Northerners and the fact that she hadn't done anything. Though she had left Kaza with some of the cure…the pieces were slowly beginning to fall into place as her mind rummaged over what the Chief had possibly done. He had managed to convince his people to take the cure on her behalf.

"I spoke to my people, told them the truth about the creature. Arka and Myza spoke as well. The truth does wonderful things, Miss Jones."

"I know," Martha smiled sadly.

"When I finished speaking about the creature, about what had truly become of our lives, manipulated by a cruel and twisted creature, they began to question themselves and whether they were truly in control of their life. I spoke about the Ofhorn flower and what it had done to me, how it had made me feel more whole and become a better person. Jenner, Carls and Mordred," he indicated one woman and two men in the gathered crowd, "volunteered to take the cure and they did, actively choosing to change their own lives. Once everyone else had seen the positive effects this had given them, they all came forward to take it. The doubts that had been planted by you were lifted by my own intervention. They took the risk and changed themselves willingly."

Martha felt amazed and surprised by what Kaza had done. Her goal was complete – all she had to was rescue the Doctor. "Hold on, the creature still exists though – he has two loyal helpers. I saw them…" she trailed off, waiting for confirmation.

CoHarr stepped forward, nodding. "Yes. These two people Arrein and Aziel grew up as part of my tribe, but they left to live in the mountains. They have held much power over me in the last few years since they came to adulthood. They cannot be saved. They are too loyal to the creature, if they serve it."

"If anyone has your friend it will be them," added Kaza.

"And they'll be coming to stop me, to convert you lot back into their slaves just so their master can live," said Martha, frowning.

"We'll meet them halfway then." Kaza's eyes glinted. "I have a plan that might just work; one that wouldn't end in you murdering people."

"Then tell me what it is," said Martha, willing to consider any idea that came her way. If it saved the Doctor's life then it would be worth it.

* * *

The Doctor had woken with many aches and pains to find himself, once more, being dragged along the dirt. _My clothes are going to be filthy! _he thought, momentarily forgetting why he was being dragged like an animal. If he survived this he would have to investigate getting a new suit. He noted with some concern that they were moving quite fast, which technically was impossible. Despite being thin, he was quite heavy to drag, which suggested that some higher power was propelling them along so they covered the distance quicker. 

Time was running out for the darkness and he realised, with some concern that he was likely to die, unless Martha found a way to stop the creature. He decided to take a risk.

"We going anywhere nice?" he asked, designing the question to be light banter.

His captors drew to a stop and slapped him viciously across the face.

"There was no need for that!" he replied, his cheek stinging. There was no reply from his captors as they grabbed his arms again and dragged him forwards, gaining more speed until dust from the earth was gathered around them once more. He went back to his thoughts wondering how he could get out of this situation alive. He noticed, with some relief that he was away from the mountain now, therefore meaning that the creature couldn't harm him, giving the Doctor a little bit more freedom then he'd had.

His own strength was gradually returning and his mind was beginning to heal from the brutality of the attacks the creature had imposed upon him; the barriers that had been broken were being reconstructed, stronger then before. He could sense the TARDIS in the back of his mind, gently probing his defences, testing the strength of them before fleeing further into his mind.

He looked up realising that they were drawing close to the Northerner Camp, Kaza's home, the place where he had been captured. He looked up, noticing that a large group of people were heading their way; the figure in front he recognised. A grin spread across his face: it was Martha Jones, leading the people out of the camp to meet their enemies.

The final 'battle' of survival had begun.

Man verses beast.

His fate was in their hands; he could no longer decide his own.

* * *

Martha walked, a steely glance in her eyes, her mouth drawn into a frown as her eyes found the figure of the Doctor lying on the ground in front of his captors. As soon as they had realised that Martha was coming to them they had stopped, throwing their prisoner roughly to the ground, waiting for Martha to act. But she didn't do what they expected; she just continued on walking until they were less then twenty metres apart. Then she stopped, crossing her arms in front of her and glaring at them with all the hate that she could muster. The Doctor looked terrible; his suit ripped in places and his hair mattered with blood; his forehead had a dark bruise on it, evidence of the beating he had received for trying to escape. 

She stared into the faces of the two people in front of her, seeing no regret in their eyes. It was decided then. She raised her voice, keeping eye contact with them. "Let him go and leave these people alone!"

"You must be Martha Jones," the woman said, ignoring Martha's demand. "I am Aziel. And this is my brother Arrein. You look so confident that you can win, that you can beat us."

_I can._They didn't know what she had planned. She needed to keep them talking, just for a little while longer.

"You can threaten me all you want," she spat, "but I will not yield to your demands."

Arrein laughed, bending down to drag the disorientated Doctor from the ground, pulling him up by his bound arms. Then he viciously kicked the Doctor in the small of his back, emitting a groan of pain from his captive. Aziel watched Martha's reaction, but was unnerved that she didn't react to the display of violence.

"I can kill him," said Aziel, unsheathing a dagger from her belt. "I can make him die a slow and painful death, suffocating upon his own blood."

"You hurt him, you die," said Martha simply. She indicated the group of Southerners and Northerners that had rallied behind her. Each of them was holding their own weapons at the ready, but none showed anger in their expressions, leaving both Arrein and Aziel feeling uneasy.

"We know things about you, Martha Jones, and about him as well" whispered Aziel.

"Did you know that he cares about you? That he believes in you to save his life? You love him don't you? Our master has seen into your mind – he knows the care you hold for this ingrate," said Arrein, throwing the Doctor roughly to the ground. He placed his foot upon the Doctor's spine, pushing down upon it.

Martha swallowed, realising what would happen if she didn't act. The Doctor was struggling underneath the pressure his captor was placing upon his spine. Too much and it would snap. He would die.

"You wouldn't risk his death," the woman grinned.

"Wouldn't I?" Martha arched her eyebrows.

Arrein was taken aback by his foe's words. He shifted his foot, placing it delicately upon the Doctor's exposed neck, making his meaning completely clear. "One little push and it will snap…my master, after all, has the power to make me stronger then I look. Do you really want to test him, Martha Jones? Surrender now and your friend will not be hurt anymore."

When Martha refused to answer, Arrein let out a snarl and pressed his foot down harder. The Doctor choked, struggling to breathe. "You can see I am quite serious."

"So am I," retorted Martha, nodding to something behind him.

"Then he will die," replied Arrein, pushing his foot down just a little bit harder upon the Doctor's neck. He waited for the girl to shout out, to tell him to stop but she didn't, unnerving him a little bit further. What did she know that he didn't?

"Getting soft?" asked Martha, baiting his anger. "You can't kill him can you?"

"I can and I will!"

"Then why aren't you doing it?"

Arrein glanced down at the squirming form of the Doctor as he tried his hardest to escape from the building pressure. Why couldn't he kill this whelp? Martha Jones was so sure that she could win that it unnerved him. What did she know? She hadn't had time to plan anything, had she? Martha continued staring at him, watching as he struggled to do what he had threatened.

"Arrein!" his sister was yelling at him. "Do it! Show them we mean it!"

"Something is wrong," he said, lifting his foot off of the Doctor's neck. "She is so sure of herself. There is no fear in her eyes, we are missing something!"

"If you can't do it, I'll do it," hissed Aziel pushing her brother away so that she could reach the Doctor. Arrein continued to back away, watching his sister grab the Doctor by the head, lifting him up and placing a knife at his throat. Aziel let a cruel smile cross her features. She kept her eyes upon Martha Jones, stalling for just a little bit before she –

She gasped in pain; her fingers letting the Doctor go, dropping him to the floor. The knife she held dropped from her hand. She could barely breathe. Her master was yelling in her mind, and as her vision clouded over, Aziel heard a scream piercing the air, as the mountain behind them began to crumble.

She doubled over, collapsing to the ground. Her eyesight was fading and blood was pouring from the wound in her back. Her body was getting cold, her breath coming in gasps.

Her last word was "Master." Then her life was taken from her body, her soul departing the world forever.

* * *

Kaza washed the blood from his hands. He had hated killing the woman, but it had been the only way to free his people. Martha Jones had stalled the two siblings long enough to allow him and CoHarr to sneak round behind them and make a surprise attack. He felt dirty for taking someone's life – but they had been responsible for many things. The creature had died when Aziel and Arrein had taken their last breath. Their bodies had been hastily burned, purging Maralus of their evil. 

"Are you alright?"

Kaza looked up, smiling gently. "I am fine Miss Jones. How is your friend?"

"Sleeping," answered Martha. "He's a bit worn out. Wouldn't shut up until I gave him the calming draught the Shaman instructed me to administer to him. He conked out after that."

"Will you stay? You are welcome here for as long as you want to."

A warm smile crept onto her face. "If I could I would, unfortunately the Doctor is not the type to sit still. He will want to be gone once he wakes up. Sorry."

"That's okay. However, I would, if your friend agrees to it, like if you consented to come to our feast? Both CoHarr and I have decided to hold a service that will be presided over by the Shaman, unifying our two tribes. I would like you and the Doctor to attend."

"I'll see what I can do," promised Martha, tapping the Chief on his shoulder. "If you don't mind I must take my leave of you. I need to speak to CoHarr."

Kaza nodded. As she walked away from where he sat upon the ground, diligently washing the remaining dried blood from his hands in a small stream that ran at the edge of the forest, he whispered to himself: "Thank you for saving us, Martha Jones."

He watched her head back towards his tribe. Martha Jones had indeed saved them all, just as she had been prophesised to do.

**To be continued...**

**Please let me know what you think! **

**The Epilogue should be posted tomorrow. ** **I know that the Doctor was completely useless throughout this story but I wanted to write a fic in which Martha proved that she was something more then just a 'passenger'. As I said, last chapter should be posted tomorrow. **

** magic-doctor-writer **


	12. Epilogue

**Thank you for all the reviews so far! This is, of course, the last chapter of this story. Enjoy!****  
**

**Epilogue**

After her talk with CoHarr, where the Chief had thanked her continuously for her help in saving his people, Martha made her way back to the hut where she had left the Doctor after giving him the Shaman's 'sleeping' potion. He needed the rest; the Doctor of course, hadn't known that it would make him sleep. She was certain that he would be cranky and annoyed with her when he woke, but surprisingly he wasn't. She found him sitting up in the bed, with one of his hands rubbing the back of his neck, wincing at the touch.

"Are you alright?" asked Martha, concern written across her features.

"Yeah, I'm fine…" he continued to rub the back of his neck, "although I do feel very achy. And I've got a rather annoying head ache. Though I suppose that is a given since I was chucked around like I was a piece of meat. Nearly having my neck broken wasn't a pleasant experience, and certainly not one I would want to repeat in future."

"Here, let me look," said Martha, walking forwards, intent on examining him, just in case Arrein had done some damage to his throat.

"I'm fine," he replied trying to assure his companion that he didn't need her to examine him.

She crossed her arms, glaring at him. "I am training to be a doctor of medicine. You nearly had your neck broken. I did notice that you were struggling to breathe while you were lying on the ground. I need to make sure that you haven't got any lasting damage. You may be an alien, but you are still my patient."

The Doctor rolled his eyes, but relented, allowing his companion to examine the back of his neck. It hurt as she prodded the skin, but he didn't make a sound, determined to make her think it was nothing.

Delicately, Martha placed two fingers on the back of his neck, slowly applying pressure. "Tell me if it hurts," she instructed, though she didn't expect him to make a sound over her administrations. She was right; he didn't flinch or hiss in pain while she worked. "There, all done. As far as I can tell you have sustained minor injury. The muscles in your neck are healing from the pressure – you've just got a few bruises that have formed underneath the skin. It should go down in a couple of days."

"Good," he said, "and it did hurt when you were prodding." He rubbed the back of his neck, smiling weakly at her. "Thanks."

Martha raised her eyebrows. "For what?"

"For saving me," he explained, before getting to his feet, reaching out for her hand with his left one and clasping her slender fingers within his own. "Come on."

* * *

A couple of hours late they were back in the TARDIS; the Doctor dancing round the Time Rotor, setting the co-ordinates for their next destination. Martha st in the pilots chair reminiscing over what Kaza and CoHarr had said to her before the Doctor had whisked her away from Maralus. 

"_You are forever a legend among our people, Martha Jones. Our world is forever in your debt." _

She had blushed at that statement, feeling that she didn't deserve that particular honour. Never before had anyone considered them-selves to be in her debt, not even the patients she had saved during her time at the Royal Hope. They had been grateful to her, yes, but not in the way that CoHarr and Kaza meant.

The Doctor had graciously accepted the invitation to attend the feast. Despite wanting to leave the planet, he couldn't deny Martha the chance to participate in the beginning of a new era. The ceremony unified the two tribes, with both Kaza and CoHarr speaking about their hopes for the future and how they planned to rebuild their planet. After many speeches made by the Shaman and various warriors of the tribes, dance and games began, in which Martha participated, with the Doctor watching her from where he had sat. She had tried to get the Doctor to join in but he had refused claiming that he didn't dance. It had been a fun evening.

Now they were back in the TARDIS after saying farewell to the two Chiefs who had stated that Martha was welcome whenever she desired to visit. She hadn't promised to return but it was something that she could consider doing, providing the Doctor set the co-ordinates right.

"So, Miss Jones," the Doctor turned to face her, a big grin plastered across his face. "I didn't see you begging to stay on Maralus. I guess I lose the bet."

Martha looked at him, confusion evident on her features. Then she remembered. Before everything that had happened and they had discovered the existence of the creature, the Doctor had said 'that she would be begging to stay when he said let's go' and if she hadn't been begging he would do anything she had asked.

"I remember saying that you could take me to a haunted house, and not the rubbish ones in Disneyland. A real one," she hastily added.

The Doctor moved towards her. "I seem to recall you requesting something else first…" he said, his voice rather low and husky. Before she could react, he was kissing her, full on the lips. He pulled away from her, eye brows raised, searching her expression, a hint of a smile pulling on his lips. A blush spread across her face and she turned away. She had requested a kiss from him, but she had claimed that she had been joking so as not to terrify him. She hadn't expected him to remember that, especially after she had mentioned going to a haunted house and he had jumped at the chance to say that he loved haunted houses.

"Your second wish was to go to a real haunted house?" he asked, breaking the silence that had fallen between them.

She nodded, still in awe of what he had done. She would have to ask him about that later. It had been completely different to the 'genetic transfer' at the Royal Hope.

"Your haunted house is just outside those doors," he said, pointing to the exit. He moved forwards and took hold of her hand, squeezing it softly. "Come on!"

They ran out of the TARDIS, the Doctor pulling her along to adventures anew.

**END**

**Please let me know what you think!**

**This story is now done, complete! There is going to be a sequel. But it is a one-shot and deals with Ten and Martha's time in 1969, building up the romance that was hinted throughout this story. The one-shot will likely be rated Mature, but as it is not written yet, I do not know. **

** Thank you to everyone who stayed with me throughout this fic. **

** Until next time, **

** magic-doctor-writer  
**


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